Still off the Key of Reason
by ElsBells
Summary: JOTKOR sequel. Quinn is thundering her way through vet school. Rachel is enlightening the west coast with her talent. The story continues with a wedding, dogs in tuxedos, and Pooh Bear vows. Crazy never fades.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: In case it's not clear, this starts the summer after Quinn's first year of vet school. I think I'll update a couple times a week, but we'll see how it goes. Thank you for reading!

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 1: Eyes the Size of Baby Worlds**

"_Hippos are born underwater_."

Rachel never forgot that. It was the only thing running through her mind as she stood with her fathers, preparing to walk down the aisle to join her bride. She peeked around the tree line at the small crowd of friends and family. They sat in small white chairs, soaking up the sun, probably overheating, but Rachel didn't really care at the moment.

As long as the lovely woman standing at the head of the aisle was smiling, Rachel was happy.

She was about to get married. Hippos _probably_ shouldn't be at the forefront of her mind.

She'd already tripped over her flowy, white dress twice. Her fathers looped their arms through both of hers, so now she could dangle freely like a toddler if she fell again. She was tempted to do it, just because she was sort of out of her mind at the moment, but then she remembered she was an adult.

Adults don't do that, Rachel.

"_I think it's probably really scary. When you're just a little hippo and you have to get out of the water where you were born_."

God. Fucking focus.

Quinn probably wasn't having these thoughts. No. She would be thinking about polar bears prancing down the aisle, or wishing she could break away from the ceremony for a minute to frolic with the butterflies around them in Central Park's Conservatory Garden.

Leroy nudged Rachel's side, and she looked up at him with a frantic smile. She'd gone full circle crazy during this whole wedding planning process, rounding multiple bends and dips, and then landing right back where she'd started. Crazy with Quinn. Crazy _like_ Quinn. And for Quinn and all about Quinn.

Rachel took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She gave up on trying to stop her face from smiling like a fool.

This was happening. Right now.

The music started to play, and Rachel's fathers guided her around the tree line, grinning proudly, heads held high. Rachel staggered as soon as the ceremony came into view. Almost internally. That kind of feeling when your ankles almost give out and you feel like you're about to die, but you right yourself immediately and nobody else even notices.

Rachel was seconds away from collapsing into a heap, but she strode smoothly on.

Her gaze was locked onto the woman at the end of the aisle. Her fluffy blonde hair was tamed for once, and pinned neatly into place. She wore a mid-length white dress and a huge, adoring smile, and she was rocking back and forth on her heels excitedly, fingers tapping her thighs.

Rachel didn't register the smiles on her friends' faces, or the tears that her fathers were trying to stifle. She didn't the notice the four dogs sitting off to the side wearing matching tuxedos, or the one black and white dog chewing his way out of his attire and spinning around like a psychopath.

All thoughts of baby hippos were long gone. Rachel focused on her bear instead.

Her fathers kissed her cheeks when they reached the end of the aisle, and Rachel handed her bouquet to Santana and stepped in front of Quinn.

Looking up at her bride was like staring at the sun. Rachel had to keep blinking her eyes.

Also, it was insanely hot outside.

"You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen." Quinn whispered.

Rachel smiled and flushed, and Quinn looked pleased with herself. Rachel took Quinn's hands to stop her shifting and tapping.

She really did try to listen to whatever the minister was saying. But Quinn's face was shining with the intensity of a thousand suns, and Rachel's face was hurting from smiling so she just tumbled off the tracks and got lost in hazel eyes instead.

"Love you big bear." She mouthed.

Quinn bounced slightly on her feet.

When the minister fell silent, Rachel realized it was time for her vows. Her mind was blank. Or it was so full that she'd pushed the vows out. Rachel's eyes widened and her mind reeled.

Crap.

She couldn't stop staring at Quinn's eyes. They were sucking her back in.

She was an actress. She should remember her goddamned vows.

Rachel shut her eyes for a second, and was wholly unprepared for the words that came rushing back to her as soon as the contact with Quinn's face was broken. She took a deep breath and met Quinn's gaze. Quinn reached out a hand and brushed it along Rachel's jaw.

Rachel wondered how long she'd been silent. She needed to speak. She briefly registered some kind of animal whining in the background.

"Quinn."

Good start. Very good start. Rachel's lips quirked up when Quinn hummed.

"You're a light in the world. A wonderful light that I get to call my own." Rachel said slowly. "You radiate joy and kindness every single day. Even when the world doesn't deserve it from you. And all you ask for in return is a smile, or a few nice words. You've given me hope that there truly are good, happy people out there, who only wish to make the world a better place."

Quinn rocked happily back on her heels before Rachel stilled her again.

"You're an odd one, silly bear." Rachel proclaimed with a chuckle. She heard quiet laughter from their friends standing around them. And that dog whining loudly.

If they could get through this wedding without Cornelius ruining it, it would be a success.

"It means the world to me that I get to keep you." Rachel continued, gazing up at Quinn fondly. "So I vow to love you. More than myself. More than the stage and the animals. More than anything. I vow to swim with the dolphins with you, and I vow to visit all the lions and bears you want. "

Quinn's eyes lit up even further and Rachel grinned.

"I'll hold your hand when you're scared, and slow you down when your world spins away and words evade you. I will raise the most beautiful children with you, and, even when we're eighty years old, I vow to make you all the macaroni and cookies you can eat."

Quinn's breathing was coming more shallowly, and Rachel leaned forward so her face was only a few inches away. "Love you so much, big bear." She whispered.

Rachel hoped Puck was recording this because she wouldn't remember any of it tomorrow. Or in five seconds. She couldn't remember writing the vows, and she'd already forgotten speaking them.

Where the fuck was she?

She was marrying Quinn Fabray.

Rachel glanced at the guys standing behind Quinn. Sam was grinning broadly, mouth open wide. Kurt was crying into a handkerchief and Blaine was rubbing his back soothingly. Puck stood off to the side filming the ceremony with a new video camera.

Maybe the old one had finally spontaneously combusted.

Quinn was swaying side to side, excitedly, or because she was about to pass out, Rachel didn't know. She reached up and softly tweaked Quinn's ear to give her something to focus on.

Quinn shut her eyes for a second and took a deep breath.

Rachel heard the dog whining again. Somebody needed to remove Cornelius from the premises.

"Rachel." Quinn said, a little bit louder than necessary. She shook her head around and Rachel tugged on her hand because Quinn would mess up her hair.

How long had she been standing at this altar? Seven years?

"I-first, I love you more than anything in the world." Quinn began, gazing down into Rachel's eyes. "And today…I get to make you mine. Forever."

Quinn's lips quirked as she said this. She looked pleased. Like she'd succeeded at dominating the world.

"And I still can't believe it. I'll never believe it. Because-because…You're my favorite thing. The best thing. So today, I promise you the world. Because you deserve it. I promise that I'll dance like a fool for you. I'll-I'll hug you when you cry, and kiss you when you laugh. I'll watch musicals all night when you're sick, and-and I will stand right next to you when people-people are mean."

Rachel's eyes were blurring, but she kept them locked with Quinn's. Quinn was rocking on her heels even more now.

"I-I promise I'll let you-you can-I- I'll-we-"

Rachel squeezed Quinn's hands. She mouthed "slow down," and Quinn took a deep breath. Rachel smiled at her fondly.

"I promise…I'll let you mess up my hair and-and call me clumsy and throw marshmallows at me over breakfast, because I know you do it out of love. So much love." Quinn said slowly. "And when we're old, like elephants, and we move slowly and roll in the mud and eat nothing but chocolate pudding, I will love you as much as I do at this moment."

Rachel probably _would_ end up rolling in some mud. If she was crazy now, then eighty year old Rachel would be off the fucking tracks.

She focused on trying not to cry. Or trying not to _sob_, because tears were already falling from her eyes. There was a chorus of sniffling from her bridesmaids behind her, but she didn't dare turn around.

Quinn leaned in closer. "I love you so much, little bear. And if-if you live to be one hundred, I hope I live to be one hundred minus a day, so I never have to live without you."

There it was. The Pooh Bear quote Rachel was waiting for.

Her face was about to break open with all the emotion she was holding inside. Quinn wiped a few tears away, and then stepped closer so that her toes touched Rachel's. She smiled down at her like they weren't being watched by twenty people.

"Can we have the rings, please?" The minister asked.

Unless Cornelius had them in his mouth, yeah. Sam stepped forward and handed them over, winking at Quinn when he went back to his spot.

Quinn didn't notice.

Rachel's hands were far too shaky to slide a ring onto somebody else's fingers. Especially when that somebody's fingers were shakier than her own. It felt like she was defusing a bomb. In an earthquake. During a seizure. Her throat was closing up. It was _nerve-wracking_.

Rachel stared in awe at the gold band on Quinn's slender finger when she _finally_ got it on. Quinn slid Rachel's on, and then picked up her hand and kissed it. And then she kissed her bride.

Either Rachel had missed the cue from the minister, or Quinn hadn't bothered waiting. Either way, Quinn's lips slid softly against Rachel's. It was like they were back at Coney Island. Except Quinn's tongue wasn't blue, and she didn't taste like Fruit Roll-Ups.

She tasted like Peppermint Pattie, because that was Quinn's idea of a breath mint.

Rachel put a hand on the back of Quinn's neck and stood on her tip-toes, tilting her head and opening her mouth further.

It was her first kiss with her _wife_, and she was going to do it right.

~oooooooooo~

Their first dance was to Dean Martin's "In the Misty Moonlight." It was a classic. When Rachel was a kid, she'd put Dino on and dance around her room with her stuffed animals. Singing along of course. All the wrong words.

Some things never change.

Now Quinn sang quietly with her as they swayed around the dance floor.

"_In the misty moonlight, by the flickering firelight, any place is alright, long as you are there_."

Quinn was deepening her voice comically to try and match Dino's, and Rachel was laughing into her shoulder. Quinn took the opportunity to spin her around, and the couples around the dance floor applauded before joining in. Sam was the first to saunter out, Barnaby as his partner.

Cornelius had been allowed into the reception, and he could be seen bouncing around peoples' legs wearing half a tuxedo and frosting on his face.

Rachel found that people seemed to lose control of themselves at wedding receptions. Herself included. But she didn't come with a lot of restraint to begin with.

Quinn was bouncing around the stage doing the "Party Rock" dance to "Sexy and I Know It," and Rachel was right next to her, jumping up and down and yelling "wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, yeah" at all the wrong times.

"You're such a good dancer, baby." Quinn remarked breathlessly, slinging an arm around Rachel's shoulders when the song ended. Rachel couldn't be bothered to determine if it was sarcastic or not, but she happily agreed.

She was a fucking star.

"Karaoke time!" Kurt yelled when the song ended. He climbed up onto the stage as Quinn helped Rachel down. Blaine and Puck followed, Cloud in tow.

Rachel worked on scraping together some semblance of self-control now that she was back on level ground, following around her gorgeous wife, whose dress clung to every curve perfectly.

Quinn led Rachel over to the wedding party's table where Brittany, Santana, Tina, and Sam were seated. Rachel tried to regain her bearings after that performance. She'd turned into one of those inflatable arm-flailing monsters during the "wiggles."

She looked around and focused on the food table. Anything to take her mind off of Quinn's hot hand on her shoulder and the lean legs she could see under the table.

"Do you want cake or cookies, baby?" She asked Quinn, playing with the fingers on her shoulder.

Quinn smiled at her, cheeks flushed from dancing. Rachel tried to pat her fluffy, blonde hair down. It'd come undone as soon as they'd said "I do."

"Yes, please." Quinn nodded, completely serious.

"_Or_." Rachel repeated right away, smiling. "Pick one."

Quinn scrunched up her face like it was such a horrible thing to make her choose. Rachel knew she was playing. And mocking. Tina and Sam watched with amusement.

"Cake _or_ cookies." Rachel emphasized, shoving Quinn's shoulder lightly.

"Yes. Please. Rachel." Quinn said slowly, keeping a straight face.

Rachel tilted forward and kissed her, ignoring the groan from Santana.

"It's their wedding, dude. Leave 'em be." Sam defended amicably. Then he took a big bite of something and choked. Quinn pulled back to see what it was. And if she could have some.

Tina clapped Sam on the back.

Brittany stood up abruptly and clapped her hands to try to get everybody's attention. Santana tugged on her arm and handed her a glass and a fork. Which was much more effective. At making a huge mess.

Santana moved away from the broken glass and pretended like that hadn't just happened.

"Alright." She said, spinning around to make sure all eyes were on her. "As Berry's maid of honor, I have something to say. Because I have to say something, apparently."

Rachel rolled her eyes.

"I've known Rachel since high school. She's always been a tiny person with a huge voice and eyes the size of planets." Santana made a few hand gestures with her fists to emphasize. "She used to go out with that giant over there."

Finn raised a hand and grinned when Santana pointed at him. Brittany waved back.

"Now…Berry's always been one of the good ones. With a heart even bigger than her Jupiter-sized eyes."

Quinn leaned into Rachel's side and kissed right at the corner of her eye, leaving cake frosting in her wake.

"And then she met little miss sunshine, this weirdo over here. Who has a heart made of puppies, and a brain made of encyclopedias and cotton candy."

Rachel nodded along. That was accurate. Cornelius came skipping up to her side with one of the plastic cake-toppers in his mouth.

"Not gonna lie, I thought Q was a killer the first time I met her, and that I'd be called down to identify Rachel's body because of her psycho roommate."

Well this was a lovely speech.

"But…they twisted up their giant eyes and puppy hearts and created one huge, disgusting ball of love, which I am witness to almost every day." Santana heaved a sigh like she was in pain. "Quinn, Rachel, what you have is sickening. Your love makes me want to vomit all the time. But it's freaking heartwarming."

Santana held up her glass, but mumbled her last sentences so that Rachel barely hear them. "And it is fun seeing you so happy. To the Berry-Fabrays, we wish you the best."

Rachel cheered loudly. Sam whooped from across the table.

"That was very nice of you, Santana." Rachel said once she put her glass back down.

Santana glared at her from across the table. "Never again."

Rachel smiled innocently. "But you're so _sweet_. Like a blob of cookie dough."

Quinn put a hand on Rachel's thigh and leaned over to catch her eye. "We have that here, right?" she asked excitedly. A cookie dough meerkat.

Who the fuck would serve raw cookie dough at a wedding reception? Rachel pictured the Pillsbury dough boy getting married. Maybe to someone like Aunt Jemima. Or Little Debbie. Cookies, syrup, and Ho-Hos. They could be Quinn's family.

But God, of course there was cookie dough at Quinn's wedding reception. Rachel pointed it out, and Sam went to get some for Quinn. At the same time that Kurt, Blaine, Puck, and Cloud broke into an unnaturally and scarily high-pitched Bee-Gees medley.

Rachel's dads danced their way over during "Stayin' Alive." They bent over in front of Quinn to catch their breath, hands on their knees. Maybe they were a little too old to have disco fever. Maybe wedding receptions shouldn't turn into disco parties.

"Quinn, we would like to take this opportunity to officially welcome you to the family." Hiram proclaimed once he'd straightened back up.

Rachel grinned and watched Quinn's face.

"We've considered you our other daughter for a while now," Leroy said, putting one hand on Rachel's head and the other on Quinn's, "but tonight, you become a Berry. And there is no escaping now."

Quinn shook her head vigorously. Rachel chuckled.

She had Quinn in her trap and was never letting go.

"We've dreamed about the father-daughter dance at Rachel's wedding for twenty-six years now." Hiram continued. Quinn watched him, gaze unwavering. Rachel strapped her god damn heels back on to her feet.

She was ready for this. Her dads might pass out halfway through, but she was ready.

"So, lovely daughters, disco with us?" Hiram asked, holding out a hand for Quinn. Leroy held his out for Rachel. Maybe "Disco Inferno" wasn't the most traditional song for the father-daughter dance, but maybe it was perfect. Rachel and Quinn were far from traditional.

Rachel took her dad's hand, laughing at the "John Travolta" he did all the way out to the dance floor. She spun around to see Hiram teaching Quinn the same moves. Rachel caught her wife's eye with a smile and joined in.

"_It was so entertainin' when the boogie started to explode, I heard somebody say,_

_Burn, baby, burn! Disco inferno. Burn, baby, burn! Burn that motha down."_

~oooooooooo~

It was nice to be back in New York after a year in California. Even if it was only for a week for the wedding. Rachel had missed the Carnegie apartment. She'd missed the bright lights and tall buildings, and her Broadway-decorated office. Guest mentoring at Davis was fun, but it wasn't home.

"We're home!" Quinn proclaimed, flinging open the front door but grabbing Rachel's shoulder before she could walk through.

"I have to carry you over the threshold." Quinn explained, lips quirked up but eyes serious.

Rachel was wary. They were both tipsy and weak from dancing. Quinn let the dogs inside and then turned to scoop up Rachel.

"Don't drop me." Rachel warned with a smile, squealing when Quinn took her legs out from under her. She wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck, and Quinn edged them through the door before kicking it shut.

Quinn started humming as soon as they were fully inside.

"_Yellow cab, gypsy cab, dollar cab, holla back, for foreigners it ain't for, they act like they forgot how to act, eight million stories out there and they're naked_."

Quinn bounced around the living room with Rachel in her arms, and Rachel slapped her in the shoulder lightly. "Bear, stop singing. Take me to bed."

Quinn changed direction but sang even louder. "_Concrete jungle where dreams are made of, there's nothing you can't do!_"

Rachel buried her face in Quinn's neck so that if she was dropped, at least it would be a surprise. She felt Quinn swerve and looked up to find them in the kitchen.

"Quinn." She chided.

"I need water." Quinn explained, panting like she'd been traipsing through the desert.

Rachel reached out and grabbed a bottle. "Anything else?"

Quinn shuffled over to the cookie jar and angled Rachel's body. "Cookies for energy, please."

Rachel rolled her eyes, but took two cookies and put one in Quinn's open mouth. She could feel herself slipping so she put an arm back around Quinn's neck and hummed for her to hurry up.

Quinn tilted her face to the ceiling so her cookie wouldn't fall out of her mouth, and then thundered out of the kitchen and down the hallway to the bedroom. It was like being on a roller coaster. A very unsafe roller coaster that made Rachel feel like she was about to be flung to her death.

Quinn set Rachel down right next to the bed and turned to shut the door so the animals couldn't get in. She stuffed the rest of the cookie in her mouth, swallowed, and took a deep breath to settle herself down.

Rachel watched with a smile. Quinn eyed her from the door. She looked playful, because Quinn _always_ looked playful. But her eyes were dark. Rachel knew that look. She stood still and waited for Quinn to saunter up to her.

Quinn rested her hands lightly on Rachel's hips. "You're my wife." She stated quietly.

Rachel chuckled. "Yes, I am."

"You're going to spend the rest of your life with me."

Rachel nodded, wrapping her arms around Quinn's waist. "Yes, I am."

Quinn's fingers played with the fabric of Rachel's dress. "You're going to swim with the dolphins with me on our honeymoon. And visit the big turtles again, and the zoo in Honolulu. And I'm going to get you endless mango smoothies because you love them."

Rachel hummed. "I do."

"You do." Quinn confirmed with a grin.

"So…what are you doing now?" Rachel asked curiously. Quinn hadn't moved, and Rachel's legs were about to give out. Who knew weddings were so fucking exhausting?

Quinn was silent for a moment. She ran her hands up and down Rachel's waist. "I'm…I'm going to lay you down."

Hmm.

Sounds interesting. Rachel could get on board with that.

Quinn ran her hands up Rachel's back and tilted her head down to capture her lips. Her nose nudged Rachel's cheek and Rachel leaned in to her.

"What next?" Rachel whispered. She was interested to see how far Quinn could get.

Quinn blinked. She leaned her forehead against Rachel's. "Well, I, um, skipped a step. First, we lose the dress. And then I'll lay you down."

Rachel chuckled and kissed Quinn's ear.

Quinn was using the husky voice she got when she was grumpy or tired. Or turned on. She grabbed Rachel's shoulders and turned her around gently, and then slowly undid the zipper on the back of the dress and let it fall to the floor.

Rachel heard Quinn swallow. She flushed and smiled.

"I-I have the most beautiful wife in the world." Quinn murmured.

Rachel blushed even further. She turned around, and Quinn's gaze settled on her bra-covered breasts before dragging up to her eyes.

"Your turn, baby." Rachel whispered. She wondered when they'd stopped talking at normal volumes.

Quinn turned around and let Rachel undo her dress. Rachel followed it as it slid to the floor, running her hands over the smooth, pale back and full hips. Then she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Quinn, leaving a few hot, open-mouthed kisses along her shoulders.

Quinn whined and spun around. She picked Rachel up so that Rachel's legs were wrapped around her waist, and shuffled them to the bed. Rachel moaned as soon as she fell back on it.

"God, bear, we need to take this bed to California with us."

Transporting a king-size mattress two thousand miles across the country shouldn't be that hard. They'd done it with eight animals without anybody dying.

"You don't like the one we have?" Quinn husked, climbing on top of Rachel, blonde hair falling around and obscuring her face. She managed to find her way to Rachel's lips, and she ran her tongue along the full lower one until Rachel let her in.

Had Quinn asked a question?

Rachel's hands snaked around Quinn's back and sought out the bra clasp. She undid it, and Quinn shimmied it off her shoulders without removing her mouth from Rachel's. Rachel rolled her body up for maximum contact, and then palmed both breasts, smiling when Quinn had to bury her face in the pillow next to Rachel's head to muffle her moan.

"You're getting crumbs everywhere." Rachel said thickly. Hadn't Quinn swallowed the cookie? How did she still manage to get crumbs on every surface she came into contact with?

"Mmmsorrmm." Quinn moaned.

Apology accepted.

Rachel took the opportunity to rub softly at the birth mark right below Quinn's breast. It was like the magic button. The key to make her girlfriend, her _wife_, fall apart. Or, one of many keys. Quinn was easily excitable. In every way.

Rachel could feel just how excited Quinn was, if the sensation on her thigh was any indication. Quinn lifted her hips up, balanced on her knees, like she knew exactly where Rachel was going. And what she was thinking.

Pssht. They were pros at this by now.

Rachel tugged Quinn's panties down her thighs, and Quinn shuffled until she could fling them off the bed. Literally, _fling_ them, by the elastic like a slingshot as far as possible. It was a game Quinn liked to play. If there was a hamper nearby, she'd turn it into panty basketball.

Rachel lifted her hips up and allowed Quinn to do the same with hers. She shuddered at the first skin-on-skin contact. Quinn rid Rachel of her bra, and dove right in to playing with her favorite little toys. Licking, sucking, nipping. Quinn was always delighted by them.

When Quinn started grinding down onto Rachel's thigh, Rachel wasted no time in moving her hand to where Quinn wanted it most. The fact that her hand had a _wedding ring_ on it was driving her over some kind of cliff.

"God, I love you, bear." Rachel whispered, just because she couldn't control herself. And she shouldn't, when that was the sentiment. Quinn deserved to have her world filled with "I love you."

"Mm. Love you t-too. So much." Quinn murmured as she started rocking in time with Rachel's hips.

Rachel couldn't get over the fact that this was her wife. Her wife with freezing cold reptile feet and choppy, fluffy hair, who loved gummy bears and fuzzy reindeer pajamas. Rachel stopped kissing along Quinn's jaw to look her in the eyes.

It was joy and delight and lust and happiness, and then euphoria and _love_. She remembered when she'd first seen those hazel eyes across the room. Three years ago. They had refused to meet her own and had focused on the dog instead.

God, how far they'd come.

Now they were locked on to Rachel's gaze. Rachel felt like she could read her mind. Stare into her soul. It should be unnerving, but…Quinn was her life now. Rachel knew everything about her.

Quinn's breathing slowed down and she tickled along Rachel's sides with a smile. "Again, little bear." She remarked happily, kissing Rachel's nose and rolling her over.

Rachel could have this every day for the rest of her life. That's what she was promised today. Because hippos are born underwater.


	2. Chapter 2

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 2: Me and You, Setting in a Honeymoon**

Rachel didn't take many eleven hour flights. She had no need. And she recognized that it was insane. If she ever found herself on a flight to Tokyo, well, somebody would need to notify the authorities because it was not voluntary. She'd rather find herself in a free-fall with a parachute strapped to her back somewhere over the Pacific Ocean.

With Quinn latched on to her front like a koala. Tandem skydiving. Something for the bucket list.

By the time the plane touched down in Honolulu, Rachel was dead on her feet. She didn't know why. All she'd been doing was _sitting down_ for eleven hours. Sleeping. Whining about airline food and the baby in the seat in front of her, and listening to Quinn point out seven thousand items from the Sky Mall catalog that she just had to have.

Rachel had managed to convince Quinn that Charizard did not need his own personal escalator to get in the car. It would just wound his pride. Quinn agreed.

Rachel allowed Quinn to drag her through the airport because she really was not capable of any kind of navigation right now. Quinn stopped abruptly as they rounded a corner and Rachel was jolted backwards by her arm.

Fortunately, she'd been numbed by the flight, and felt no pain or sensation of anything whatsoever. She blinked and scanned the arrivals area with blurry eyes.

Ah. Cameras. A lovely _mob_ of them.

Rachel straightened up immediately and backed right back around that corner. She pushed Quinn up against the wall and grabbed her gently by the ears to still her head.

"You're okay, bear." She assured quickly.

Quinn nodded. Her hazel eyes were darting around a bit, but she stood still.

Rachel knew they should've jumped plane over the Pacific. It would be fun to be stranded on an island with Quinn, sea turtles for pets. Maybe for a day. It would be a nice experience. Until starvation and exposure set in.

"We're going to ignore them, okay?" Rachel stated, waiting for Quinn to nod again. "I don't even know how they know we're here. Maybe they're waiting for someone else."

Quinn exhaled deeply, and Rachel leaned up to kiss her, using her ears as leverage.

"I-I brought my pretzels from the plane." Quinn murmured randomly when Rachel pulled back, digging through her jeans pocket. "Do you want some?"

Rachel chuckled, shaking her head. She understood. Occupy the hands, mouth, and mind. Pretzels were the answer to paparazzi for Quinn.

They weren't swarmed as they rounded the corner, and they were given their space as Quinn hauled their suitcases off of the luggage carousel. Even when Quinn nearly herniated herself because Rachel's case weighed four hundred pounds, the cameras kept their distance.

"Maybe they're being nice." Quinn suggested quietly. She looped an arm around Rachel's neck when she realized Rachel was swaying from exhaustion.

They moved towards the airport doors, and that's when the flashes started.

Quinn's walk became stilted. She pulled away from Rachel to take half a step in front of her, leading her through the crowd and shielding her from the most aggressive photographers. The ones standing directly in her path and yelling things like "where are you guys staying, Rachel?" And "what's wrong with your eyes Mrs. Berry?"

Rachel hoped there was nothing wrong with her eyes. Quinn would probably tell her if there was.

"The wedding was perfect." Rachel said quickly and politely to one of the few guys who was _not_ acting like he was running from the bulls.

"You don't look so good Quinn. Second thoughts?" Someone yelled out. Rachel couldn't see who. She squeezed Quinn's shaky hand and walked faster, following her wife.

How many fucking celebrities were flying into Honolulu on a daily basis? Maybe that's why these guys were so enthusiastic. Rachel wanted to drop them out of a plane. Or make them sit on one all the way to Tokyo. Strand them on an island. It could be a reality show.

Rachel would go mad with power if she ever got to run something like that.

The open cab door was like a light at the end of the tunnel and Quinn guided her straight to it. Rachel threw herself inside, knocking the door frame with her shin because she lacked the energy to move her legs properly. She dragged Quinn with her and the driver took care of their suitcases.

Quinn was already rocking. Rachel had her by the wrist, and Quinn's other hand ran rapidly up and down her own thigh. It was holding the crumpled pretzel wrapper.

"Quinn, you're okay." Rachel soothed, reaching over to gently pry the pretzels free from Quinn's grasp, and then holding her hand still.

This wasn't a panic attack yet, but Quinn was right on the line. She whined and shook her head around, and then looked at Rachel, frantic eyes asking for help.

Rachel registered the car was finally moving, and she dove right in, holding both of Quinn's hands and swiveling her head around to catch Quinn's eyes. Quinn was like a cobra. Or a bobblehead.

Rachel ran through her list of easy topics. "Listen, big bear. Tell me about the zoo, okay? The Honolulu Zoo. What's your favorite animal they have?"

Quinn tilted to the right and knocked her head against the window. Rachel winced and pulled her back.

"Mmm…The-the lions." Quinn stuttered out, letting Rachel rub the side of her head.

Rachel nodded and ran her fingers through blonde hair. "I remember them from last year. They have quite a few, right?"

Really, all lions were the same to Rachel. They were like clones. She could tell the boys from the girls, but that was about it. Quinn could probably list their favorite foods, hobbies, and toys. Rachel waited.

Quinn bounced slightly in her seat. "They had three. My-my favorite is Apollo."

"Why's he your favorite, bear?" Rachel asked, recognizing the name. Or the NASA mission. Or the god.

"He's the only male." Quinn said, turning to face Rachel more fully now. Her eyes were almost green. It was probably more excitement than anxiety at this point.

"And you like their…furry…necks?" Rachel continued. She was not an animal expert.

Quinn nodded. "What did you do with my pretzels?" she asked, glancing around like Rachel had hidden them on the ceiling.

Rachel smiled wearily and handed them back over. Then she laughed when Quinn scrunched up her face at the crumbly mess inside. Rachel lolled her head back against the seat and poked her wife in the ribs.

"It's our honeymoon, baby. In Hawaii. You have better things to think about than pretzels."

Like lions.

Quinn stared at Rachel for a second. Her gaze slowly morphed into one of adoration and she pulled Rachel comfortably into her arms.

"You're tired. Go to sleep." Quinn instructed quietly, kissing the top of Rachel's head.

Rachel hummed. "What if they follow us?" she asked. She didn't really think it likely that they would engage in some kind of car chase through Honolulu, but you never know. She wasn't _that_ famous. Yet.

"We'll…ignore them." Quinn said slowly. "And one of your goals in life is to be involved in a car chase, so…"

Rachel thumped Quinn's chest. "Not on our _honeymoon_."

"I'll protect you from them." Quinn stated determinedly. Rachel smiled into her shirt.

"No, really." Quinn insisted. "I'm getting better with them. My head feels fuzzy now because I'm jet-lagged, but I'd protect you. I _will._"

Rachel nodded. "You _did_."

Of course she knew that. Quinn would battle a panic attack with lions on her mind and pretzels in her hand to protect Rachel if it came to that. Rachel nodded again because she couldn't remember if she already had. She pressed her face into Quinn's shirt and finally let herself fall asleep.

~oooooooooo~

"Did-did you know that sea turtles can grow to be five feet long, and weigh six hundred and ninety pounds?" Quinn enthused. "The largest one they ever found weighed almost nine hundred!"

No.

Rachel had not known that. But she didn't need to be hearing about thousand pound shelled beasts of the sea when she was wading around Turtle Bay.

Something brushed against her leg, and she shrieked and clung tighter to Quinn. Quinn chuckled and steadied her. Rachel looked down and saw that the monster was still pressing into her leg.

Were they fucking blind? Was she being attacked?

"Quinn! What is it doing!" Rachel tried to climb up Quinn's body, but only got as far as wrapping one leg around her wife's waist.

The turtles seemed to be actively seeking Rachel out. Singling her out. Maybe she was the weakling. The one they could break most easily. Could they sense that? Did turtles hunt in packs?

What the fuck did turtles eat?

"They can see. They're just very friendly. Like you." Quinn explained sweetly. She took Rachel's hand in her own and tried to guide it towards the water. "Look, you can touch him."

Oh yeah, throw her to the lions.

Rachel was screaming internally as Quinn placed her hand on the turtle's back. It was solid and slimy. But it didn't move because of how fascinated it was with Rachel's leg. Rachel pulled her hand away after a moment. It was like petting a rock. The most exciting rock in the world.

Quinn looked gleeful that she'd actually gotten Rachel to touch it.

When Rachel found herself at Shark Cove the next day, she feared it would go in much the same direction that Turtle Bay had.

Caressing the namesake.

Quinn might love animals just enough to take her swimming with sharks. Oh, a great white, he's _adorable_! Fortunately the little bay was shark free and perfect for snorkeling.

Rachel collapsed, soaking wet, next to Quinn on the sand after swallowing gallons of salt water and exhausting herself trying to find a fucking octopus. She had been successful, and Quinn had been delighted. Quinn was also as red as the bikini she was wearing. Rachel reached out and touched her shoulder carefully.

"You always get burned, baby." She murmured sympathetically.

"I think we should make a bucket list." Quinn stated, like she was continuing a separate conversation.

Alright. Different pages again. Rachel blinked.

"What?" she asked, watching as Quinn's skin changed colors when she pressed her fingers into it. She was turning into a chameleon, and Rachel was a little worried. They'd used SPF 85, which Rachel actually had to buy online. _Nothing_ should be able to burn wearing that.

"Now we're married, and you can't run away from me," Quinn continued with a smile, "we should make a list of fun things to do before we're old like elephants."

Rachel laughed. "I won't run away from you."

"Yes. You're trapped." Quinn agreed happily. She got distracted for a second when she pressed her fingers into her own pink skin and watched it change colors. Then she looked back at Rachel brightly. "And one of your things is to-to star in a production on the West End, right? Live in London for a year?"

Rachel blinded herself by opening her eyes into the sun in her surprise. She nodded. Of course Quinn remembered that tiny little fact she'd shared once on one of their dates in New York.

"And you'll come with me." Rachel added, just to be sure.

Quinn sat up, shielding her eyes and blinking at the head rush and possible sun stroke. "Because I have chained you to me, little bear."

Her voice was melodic, like a dream. Rachel wanted to immerse herself in it.

"No, because you lured me in and made me fall in love with you." Rachel corrected.

Quinn laughed. She palmed her own stomach, watching her hand leave a print. Rachel winced. Then Quinn pounced on top of her, knocking Rachel back into the sand. She hovered over Rachel like a giant tomato.

"We need to get you out of the sun." Rachel observed, eyeing her wife's smirk.

Quinn leaned down and kissed both her cheeks and her forehead. "We need to go see the octopus again."

Quinn was probably the same color as some of those fish now. She could camouflage herself and live at the bottom of the sea if she wanted. She could be Sebastian from _The Little Mermaid_.

"You'll be in pain soon." Rachel countered, tapping Quinn's nose.

"The octopus will take my pain away."

And that was the story of Rachel Berry's wife. Perfectly summed up into one sentence. The octopus would take her pain away.

~oooooooooo~

The octopus did not take the pain away. Quinn was now lying face down on the hotel room bed, naked except for her bikini bottoms, while Rachel gently rubbed cool aloe gel on her flaming back. And face and chest and stomach and arms. Every inch of exposed skin.

Quinn moaned grumpily the whole time.

"Maybe you'll listen to me next time." Rachel remarked with a sympathetic smile.

Quinn pressed her face into the mattress and huffed. Rachel watched her shoulders move up and down.

"Does this feel better?" Rachel asked, bending over so her mouth was next to Quinn's ear. She plastered on another layer of cool gel and fanned it with her hands.

Quinn made a muffled grumbly noise.

Rachel tugged on her hair. "Can I have a thank you kiss?" she whispered, eyes smiling.

Quinn stayed still for a second, and then lifted her red face off the blankets, kissed the corner of Rachel's mouth, and dropped her head back down. Rachel ruffled her hair.

She finished applying the aloe and moved to sit cross-legged in front of Quinn so that she wasn't blocking the AC vents. Quinn grabbed her foot and kissed her toes, which were wrapped in Band-Aids because some of the shells on the beach were like shivs carved by the hermit crabs.

Hawaii was fucking dangerous.

Rachel's phone vibrated, and she picked it up to see that it was Santana.

Oh God. Cornelius had done something.

"Hello, Santana." Rachel greeted, running her hands through Quinn's hair as her wife played with her toes.

"_Okay_." Santana started off loudly like she was about fly off the handle. "Your god damn red dragon dog won't come anywhere near me. And he won't eat his food. This giant white monster thing that you call an _animal_ keeps throwing himself at your fucking fish tank. I'm pretty sure two of your fish are dead, Barnaby had Flappy's leg in his mouth earlier, and that black and white demon has vanished and I'm sure he's plotting some kind of fucking attack, and _Jesus Christ_ Berry, I hate your animals."

Rachel nodded along. She'd expected nothing less. She gave a thumbs up to Quinn, who dragged her head into Rachel's lap and started kissing her thighs instead of her toes.

"Did you kill my fish?" Rachel asked, just to be antagonistic because she was two thousand miles away. Rachel knew she had probably accidentally killed her own fish, and Santana was just discovering it now.

"I don't have fucking time for this." Santana answered in a muffled voice. Rachel heard a thump, a yell, and a crash. Cornelius had been found.

"Okay, just leave Char alone." Rachel instructed, ignoring the scuffle. "Put him in the office with his bowl and he'll eat it. Lock Cloud in the bathroom, and do what you wish with the fish." Rachel said semi-calmly. Quinn was too busy kissing along Rachel's inner thigh to care that somebody had killed the fish.

Rachel was trying not to moan into the phone. She eyed the smooth red skin of Quinn's back, the curve of her shoulder blades. She was the same color as Char. As fire.

"Santana, I have to go." She said quickly, breathlessly. Quinn had started making sounds.

"I'm just gonna throw 'em all in the bathroom until you get back, good?" Santana stated. "How's it going? If you answered the phone while you're having sex, Berry-"

Rachel made a garbled noise in the negative as Quinn moved even further up her thigh. "Nope. Nope. Not…right now."

"Aw, Jesus. You-you…" Santana couldn't seem to find the word, but Rachel could hear the smile in her voice. "Just…Don't get eaten by a shark. And don't let miss sunshine get carried away by a dolphin pod."

They could make Quinn their leader. Leader of the dolphins.

That was nice. Rachel chuckled, and then gasped when Quinn started tugging at her shorts. She threaded a hand through blonde hair to hold her back for a second.

"I…" What had Santana said? What was Rachel responding to? "…will try." She finished. Santana hung up with a laugh, and Quinn finally hooked her fingers around the elastic of Rachel's shorts.

Just as somebody knocked on the door. Rachel groaned. She patted Quinn's hair back down and rolled off the bed to walk into the front room for the food they'd ordered. Quinn grumbled and swiped at her butt. When Rachel returned with a tray of pasta and dessert, Quinn had vanished.

Rachel saw that the sliding door to the patio was open, and she smiled to herself. She walked outside to the Jacuzzi and laughed at the sight of Quinn relaxing in a mountain of bubbles. Slightly wide-eyed. God, that couldn't be good for sunburn.

It was like immersing yourself in lava to extinguish a fire.

"Isn't that too hot, baby?" Rachel asked, sitting down on the edge so her legs were in the water.

Quinn nodded, a little frantically. "It's really-it's really hot. But I like the bubbles. They feel nice."

Rachel hummed and patted Quinn's head. "It doesn't hurt?"

Quinn blinked and shook her head. A little too quickly. "I like the bubbles and the jets." She said again.

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "Are you naked, baby?"

Rachel knew the answer. Every chance Quinn got.

Quinn looked up at Rachel and smiled. She pushed away from the edge and bobbed in the middle of the hot tub. "Come in here." She suggested lowly, winking, and then wincing at the burn on her face. She sank further into the water so that she could blow bubbles with her mouth, and all Rachel could see were her eyes.

She was the cutest sea monster ever.

Rachel put the tray down before she accidentally filled the Jacuzzi with spaghetti and mango smoothie. She untied her bikini top and slid the bottoms down her legs before slipping smoothly into the water. Quinn wrapped her up immediately.

"Happy honeymoon." She murmured into Rachel's neck. Rachel smiled. Her elbow knocked a smoothie into the water and she squealed a little in surprise. Quinn put Rachel on her lap and handed her the other smoothie.

"I wish we could have a bath in a smoothie." Quinn remarked absently, holding up the straw for Rachel and running a hand along her thigh.

Quinn was obviously not thinking this through. Yeah, let's have an ice bath together. That'll be fun. Then to warm up, we can bathe in some coffee.

And God, there was something _blasting_ into Rachel's back and it felt amazing.

Rachel put the smoothie back down and turned around so that she was straddling one of Quinn's thighs. She took a moment to just watch Quinn's dark eyes, and she ran a finger lightly along Quinn's bright red jaw before kissing the trail it left.

"Rachel." Quinn whispered. She glanced around like she was making sure nobody was looking. It was dark, and they'd already been naked for about ten minutes, so there was really no point.

"We can cross it off our bucket list." Rachel murmured, watching the drops of hot water roll over Quinn's shoulders. She leaned in and kissed them away, following them with a broad stroke of her tongue.

Quinn was vibrating. Or the bubbles made it seem like she was. These were some intense bubbles. They were like mini volcanos. If the hot tub was any bigger, Rachel would be legitimately worried about drowning in a whirlpool.

"I haven't made my list yet." Quinn whispered.

Rachel brushed her fingertips along Quinn's stomach, delighting when the body underneath hers tensed.

"Then this can be number one." She reasoned.

"I-I also want to be in a-in a room with a hundred and one Dalmatians. That's-that's on my list." Quinn stuttered out, looking like she was having a very hard time controlling herself. Or that volcano was blasting her in the same place it was getting Rachel earlier.

Rachel had to laugh against Quinn's shoulder though. That was the perfect item for her bucket list.

Quinn's fingers ran up higher on Rachel's thighs, and she pressed her face against Rachel's chest before remembering that her skin was basically on fire. And that hurt. She whined a little bit and Rachel kissed right under her ears, where the skin was less affected.

Quinn pushed her thigh up, and Rachel nipped her ear as she pulled back.

"That can be…number two." Rachel moaned, shifting so that Quinn's fingers could push into her.

Quinn brushed her nose against Rachel's. An eskimo kiss. "I-I want to…go and see wild, um, wild polar bears in the arctic. That's-that's on my bucket list."

Hmm. Well.

Rachel had inspired an arctic expedition. That would be fun. She wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck and rolled her hips, watching the water lap up around their bodies. She tried not to press herself too close because of Quinn's burn, but her wife's hair was sun-bleached and her eyes were shining and she just looked so delightful.

Rachel moved her own hand down, grazing her fingers against the concrete seat and then along Quinn's soft thigh.

"I want…to do this. Everywhere." Rachel breathed out. "That's numbers one through…one thousand. On my list. Just this."

Quinn grinned, pleased. "Why not a million? Don't-don't limit me, little bear."

Oh, no. Rachel would never do that. She smiled and latched onto Quinn's neck, picking up the pace. Quinn was sinking lower in the water, but if Rachel died having sex in a hot tub, well…Was there really any better way to go?

Quinn arched her back and shuddered and Rachel felt like she'd been caught in that jet all over again

Rachel would gladly trek five hundred miles in the snow to see wild polar bears with this woman.

~oooooooooo~

Rachel was not a runner. The last time she'd tried had been in a 5K for dogs three years ago, and she'd ended up being carried across the finish line. She stayed in shape by dancing her ass off in Funny Girl, and then in the classes she mentored at the university. Sometimes she and Quinn would bike through the redwoods, and she seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time walking her dogs through random patches of wilderness.

So she should be able to hike for more than half an hour without feeling like she was going to pass out. Really, Diamond Head wasn't high enough to cause oxygen deprivation. It wasn't fucking Everest. There were _children_ skipping past Rachel on the path.

Rachel was ready to push them over the edge.

She plodded along next to Quinn, who'd slowed down to accommodate her snail pace. Quinn looked concerned. Rachel kept shrugging it off.

"We're almost…there, baby." Rachel panted, eyes fixed on her feet to make sure she didn't trip. "I'll take a break at the top. I can-I can handle it."

Because she _should_ be able to handle it. This wasn't normal.

Quinn hummed uncertainly. She put a hand on the small of Rachel's back like she was afraid she'd keel over at any second.

"Well, there's a…good view from here. We could just turn around now." Quinn suggested, slowing down even further.

Rachel shook her head, but that made her vision go blurry and she stopped abruptly and blinked.

"Your nose is bleeding." Quinn said suddenly from somewhere to her side. Rachel focused her eyes on her wife and lifted her hand up to her nose. Quinn spoke the truth. Rachel let Quinn guide her over to a bench so that they didn't both fall off the cliff.

She could see the headlines. _Former Broadway star topples over volcano edge, dragging wife with her_. It would be an interesting read. It would be even more interesting if they fell _in_ to an _active_ volcano. Rachel would probably be able to make that happen.

She clutched her nose until Quinn pulled her hand away and replaced it with a clump of tissues. She pinched Rachel's nose and tilted her head forward, ignoring the odd looks from the people filing up the cramped pathway.

Oh, nosebleed? Celebrity? Too many drugs.

"Does anything hurt? Your head? Do you feel sick?" Quinn asked anxiously, checking Rachel's forehead for a temperature and then looking into her eyes.

"Bo." Rachel replied, tilted forward and staring at the ground.

Quinn kissed the side of her head and rubbed her back. "Do you-is it the altitude?"

Rachel would've snorted, but that would have been extremely disgusting with Quinn's hand and the bloodied tissues involved. She gestured vaguely at the four year olds frolicking up the side of the volcano in front of them.

"I'b neber had a probleb before."

And again, this wasn't Everest.

The dizziness was fading, and Rachel felt less like she needed some kind of pressurized chamber to live in for the rest of her life. Or an oxygen tank. Quinn slowly pulled her hand away from Rachel's nose, and tilted her up by the chin.

She examined the damage and frowned. Rachel almost smiled.

"I think-I think it stopped bleeding." Quinn stated, wiping away the dried blood with a water bottle-soaked cloth. She wiped Rachel's hands as well and then leaned forward and kissed Rachel's cheek.

"Lean forward again, baby." She instructed softly. "I didn't get it all."

Rachel obeyed. Quinn finished with her nose and tapped it fondly.

"My mouth tastes like blood." Rachel complained quietly, licking her lips and looking for a place to spit discreetly without seeming like a slob.

Quinn turned Rachel around and then stood up to block her from everybody else. "Spit it out and drink this, little bear." She said, holding out a water bottle. Full of fruit punch. Because Quinn loved fruit punch.

And chocolate milk would only turn gross in the sun.

Rachel did as she was told, and then stood up and looked at Quinn expectantly. Quinn looped an arm through hers and took a step back down the path, but Rachel halted and raised her eyebrows.

"We're making it to the top." She stated, no room for argument.

Quinn looked stricken. "But-but you're not well."

"It's five more minutes, Quinn. It'll be worth it."

Quinn stared at Rachel for a moment, and then turned around and leaned forward, arms out to the sides. "Only if I can carry you. I don't-I don't want you falling off the edge of a mountain."

Rachel sighed and smiled, climbing onto Quinn's back. Quinn lifted her easily, only flinching lightly at the pressure on her burn, and strode on up the path. Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck and kissed the blonde hair in front of her.

"Thank you, baby."

Quinn exhaled lightly and bounced like a horse. She twisted her head to side eye Rachel. "Please don't get blood in my hair. And don't move around because you'll peel all my skin off."

Rachel grimaced and patted Quinn's head. By the time they reached the top of Diamond Head, she'd turned half of Quinn's cropped hair into a French braid, and the other half into mini dreads which came undone as soon as Quinn shook her hair out.

Rachel was looking for somebody to take their picture when Quinn stepped forward and smiled at an older woman standing alone by the rail. Rachel smiled to herself.

"Hi. I-would you mind taking our picture, please?" Quinn asked nicely, holding up the camera and gesturing to Rachel.

Rachel didn't even mind that her nose was swollen and her face was red, because having Waikiki in the background would make up for all of that. Hopefully. If not, Photoshop was invented for a reason. And Rachel had to know _somebody_ that knew how to use it.

"Of course, dear." The woman answered. Quinn bounced back to Rachel and wrapped both arms around her, grinning widely. Rachel chuckled and returned the gesture. The woman snapped the picture, and Quinn thanked her profusely.

She showed it to Rachel. There was some strange fat man sauntering through the right side of the frame, but they could crop that out easily. Rachel was laughing, and Quinn pointed to it delightedly.

"You're such a cutie, baby." She commented, not taking her eyes off the picture.

"I look inebriated." Rachel whined.

Quinn shook her head. "You look like a sweetheart. And it's going on our office wall."

Rachel didn't bother arguing. Quinn looked nice enough in the picture for the both of them. She let Quinn check her nose again, and then climbed onto her back for the journey back down the volcano.

~oooooooooo~

Rachel ordered the "Portabella Volcano" on their last night in Hawaii because it seemed fitting. And intense. And she couldn't _not_ order anything that had "volcano" in the title at this moment. This point in her life.

She sat across from Quinn, watching her wife's bright red face frown down at the menu. She smiled to herself.

"It's _all_ seafood." Quinn lamented.

It was a seafood restaurant. Because every single restaurant around them was a seafood restaurant. Rachel eyed the kids' menu.

"They have grilled cheese, babe." She offered.

Quinn puffed out her cheeks and narrowed her eyes. It was still hard to take her seriously because of how red she was. She was like an angry tomato. A frowny face drawn on a red balloon. "Maybe I should just get shrimp."

Rachel reached over and flicked the menu so that Quinn would look up. "Not if it'll make you sick. You'll be a big, sick, burnt blob and completely useless to me."

Quinn stared at her. "You'd take care of me, right? If I turned into a blob?"

Rachel had to laugh. She could imagine Quinn as a Ditto. Bright pink with a smiling face. "I'd still love you." She assured. "I could put you in a bucket and carry you around everywhere."

Quinn looked satisfied with that answer.

The waiter came up to the table and took Rachel's order. He looked expectantly at Quinn, who glanced at Rachel, and then blinked exaggeratedly and gazed up at the waiter.

"I'll have grilled cheese. Please." She ordered.

"Would you like two orders?" The waiter asked easily. "They come in child sizes."

Quinn nodded immediately. Give her _all_ the grilled cheese.

The waiter turned to go, and Quinn swiveled back to him abruptly. "Um, wait, please." She called, gesturing to Rachel's empty glass when he turned around. "Could you please bring my wife another smoothie?"

Rachel caught sight of the wedding ring on Quinn's finger and felt that shock run up her spine for the thousandth time. She smiled sweetly at Quinn as the waiter walked away.

"Give me a kiss, bear." She said, leaning halfway across the table and puckering her lips.

Quinn stayed seated, pressing her lips together in a smile. "You're going to spill my milk."

But that was nothing. Rachel was guaranteed to spill at least one beverage at every dinner involving a tablecloth. She might as well get a kiss out of it.

"Give me a kiss." She said again, raising her eyebrows to urge Quinn to hurry up.

Quinn hummed and studied Rachel's eyes. She scrunched up her face like she was thinking about it, and then finally leaned forward and planted one on Rachel's lips. Rachel knocked her empty smoothie glass to the table as she sat back down.

"Are you ready for this?" she asked vaguely, smiling when Quinn licked her lips.

Quinn took a couple straws in her hands and started playing table drums. "For what?"

"For…our lives together, as a married couple when we go home tomorrow." Rachel said happily. She plucked one of the straws from Quinn's hand and set it out of reach.

"Always." Quinn replied with a flush. She put her hands under the table and leaned forward, expression turning a bit more serious. Rachel was unfazed. Quinn used her serious face to talk about hippos and turtles, as well as _actual _serious things.

"Maybe, when-when we get back, you should see a doctor." She suggested quietly.

Rachel could feel the table shaking from Quinn's bouncy leg. Or her Portabella Volcano was making an early arrival.

"Quinn, I'm fine. I was just lightheaded." Rachel assured, just as quietly.

Quinn bit her lip. "You've run out of breath a lot lately. I mean-maybe just to make sure. I'll have a check-up too. Please."

Rachel sighed. She tapped Quinn's feet with her own under the table to get them to stop bouncing, and then smiled when all was still again.

"Okay." She agreed. Regular check-ups _were _extremely important, and she hadn't had one in a year.

Quinn smiled and nodded. "Good. And then we can-we can go see Sam at SeaWorld. And you can get back to directing your play. I can prepare for my second year at Davis. And-God…" she sighed and trailed off.

Rachel grabbed her hand under the table. "What, bear?"

Quinn shook her head. Her eyes were shiny, but she smiled brightly. "I-I love you so much. I'm so excited. I'm so glad I'm your wife. I get to have you every day."

Rachel knew the feeling. It hit her at random moments, like ten minutes ago when she'd caught sight of her wedding ring. And when she was standing at the top of a volcano suffering from something akin to altitude sickness.

It was _dangerous_.

"I love you too." Rachel said with a fond smile. She leaned over to kiss Quinn again, laughing into Quinn's mouth when she knocked the milk over on her way.

Quinn blocked it with her arm so that it wouldn't drip into Rachel's lap, and Rachel had another one of those oh-my-God-I'm-married-to-Quinn-Fabray moments. It seemed like they would never stop coming.


	3. Chapter 3

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 3: I've got you now, are you curious?**

Rachel was not surprised at all to find an aquarium in the waiting room at the doctor's office. It was filled with koi, which Quinn loved because of all the different colors. And because they grew to be _gigantic_. She didn't get up to go and watch them, though. She sat right next to Rachel and held her hand, even though it was completely unnecessary.

Rachel watched Quinn fill out the "first time client" form. Quinn was using a green pen. Rachel hoped that was appropriate. All she could think about were her high school teachers complaining about her purple gel pens.

_If you write in anything other than blue or black ink, I'll pretend I can't see the words and you will get a zero._

Well, Rachel was on Broadway now and they were still in Lima, Ohio. Fuck their boring pens. Quinn's infused joy into everything it wrote on.

"Name." Quinn murmured. "Rachel Barbra Berry-Fabray." She said slowly as she wrote it out, focusing to make sure it stayed on the line. The loopy scrawl ran together, but it was legible.

"Profession." Quinn looked up and smiled at Rachel. "Star."

Rachel chuckled and shook her head. She knocked her shoulder into Quinn's.

"Spouse." Quinn smiled even brighter. She tilted forward and kissed the edge of Rachel's mouth. "The wonderful almost-animal-doctor Quinn Berry-Fabray."

"Um, yeah, you can just leave that blank." Rachel said with a straight face. "My wife's a little weird."

Quinn ignored her. She accidentally made her "Q" about nine times too big, so the "uinn Berry-Fabray" came out barely legible anyway. Rachel snorted when she saw it. The receptionist would probably think a child filled the form out.

Quinn ticked off all the boxes in the medical history section easily, mostly because Rachel was always perfectly healthy. She stopped at the last section on the form and studied it for a minute.

"Reasons for this visit." She read off, and then looked up at Rachel with a raised eyebrow.

Rachel didn't say anything. Quinn was her reason for this visit.

"Bloody nose." Quinn said loudly. Rachel nudged her in the ribs. She didn't need to be proclaiming things like that for the whole waiting room.

"Dizziness." Quinn continued, lowering her voice. Her expression dropped with each symptom she listed off. "Fatigue."

Well now she just looked sad. Rachel smiled and ran a hand through Quinn's hair. Quinn sighed and finished writing with a flourish, pushing the form away like she never wanted to see it again.

"I'll be fine, baby." Rachel assured. She didn't even count the bloody nose as an issue, seeing as she'd been climbing a fucking volcano when it happened.

And her nose was pretty sensitive since she'd broken it junior year of high school. The slightest thing could set it off.

Quinn pulled Rachel into her side and kissed the top of her head. "You know…rabbits like licorice. But it makes them sick because they can't digest sugars."

Rachel hummed. She decided to roll with it. "Did you try it out on Benjamin?"

Quinn was silent for a moment. "Um… Accidentally."

Ah. So that's what caused the rabbit vomit that morning. Rachel laughed and twirled the wedding ring around Quinn's finger. It was nice returning to Davis and to their beloved bunny Benjamin after the honeymoon, even if it involved shipping four dogs across the country. Because they'd just had to attend the wedding.

They'd had to enlist a private plane for Char because commercial airlines wouldn't let him on. His nose was too much of a risk factor in the cargo hold. So they gave him his own luxury jet instead.

Quinn was proud of the dogs, though. They were all cross-country travelers now.

"I think…if you were a bunny, life would be your licorice…" Quinn continued her own conversation slowly. "I mean-wait."

She scrunched up her face like it was all coming out wrong. Rachel tapped her lips to get her to continue. Any sentence that started with "if you were a bunny" was worth hearing.

"I mean, your…heart, love, the way you feel things, is just so intense and earnest and vivacious that I think it-it consumes you, and your body just needs-it needs some time to recover. You know?" Quinn finished, squeezing Rachel's hand.

Rachel tilted her head onto Quinn's shoulder, brow furrowed in thought. She was an impassioned person. Zealous, overbearing to some. Maybe crazy. _Maybe_ she was so crazy in love it actually wore her admittedly small body out.

It blew her mind.

Rachel watched a fish get stuck in the aquarium filter and pondered Quinn's words.

"Rachel Berry?" A nurse called, sticking her body halfway through the door. Rachel popped up and grabbed Quinn's wrist to make sure she tagged along. She walked over to the aquarium first, slid the top off, and rescued the fish. She was an expert at rescuing fish from filters by now.

Unfortunately, she was also an expert at accidentally killing them. Quinn looked proud of her at the moment, though. She held Rachel back to make sure the fish swam away before moving through the door.

Rachel strode through the hallway and into the little exam room where the nurse led them. She climbed onto the table and kicked her legs, smiling as the woman told them the doctor would be in shortly.

Rachel hated the paper they put on those tables. She always wrinkled it up and teared it by sitting on it and moving, and then felt bad because it was completely useless paper that would just be thrown away.

Unless somebody toxic sat on it before her. If that was the case, Rachel was grateful for the paper. Hopefully it was enough to protect her.

Quinn smiled at Rachel trying to smooth it all back down.

"They should give people crayons." Quinn remarked, sitting on a rolling chair against the wall. "They could just sit on the exam table and draw pictures while they wait for the doctor."

They'd probably get some pretty fucked up drawings. From anxious, diseased adults to screaming babies, it could be like a psychological study. Rachel was definitely interested.

She gestured for Quinn to roll over in front of her. She slipped her flip-flops off and stuck her feet out to Quinn, who smiled warmly and obliged Rachel's wish for a foot massage.

"Good morning, Mrs. Berry." The doctor greeted happily, sauntering in through the door and letting it shut softly behind him. He took the other rolling chair and speed-read through whatever file was in his hand.

"Good morning." Rachel said nicely. Quinn smiled at the floor and kept rubbing her feet.

"So, just a general physical today, huh?" The doctor checked, finally looking up and smiling at Rachel.

Rachel nodded. Quinn tickled the bottoms of her feet and then rolled away into the corner with a smile. She banged into the edge of a cart and flushed when the doctor laughed. Rachel held her thumbs up.

Way to go. Way to crash that chair.

She answered all the doctor's questions about her diet and everyday activity, and then let him check her eyes and ears. He did her blood pressure and reflexes, and then had her turn around and bend over so that he could check her spine.

Rachel was sure she did not have scoliosis. Her posture was perfect. Quinn narrowed her eyes when the doctor pushed up Rachel's shirt. Rachel could hear her huffing and puffing in the corner, even when the doctor dropped it back down and returned to his rolly chair.

"Um, it's Berry-_Fabray_." Quinn blurted into the silence. The doctor looked at her with raised eyebrows and she flushed. "I-you said Berry earlier. It's…Berry-Fabray."

The doctor smiled in realization and nodded his thanks at Quinn. Rachel scrunched up her nose at her wife and nodded as well. Quinn smiled proudly at her.

Rachel swung her feet against the exam table and looked around a little disgustedly at the pictures on the wall. Was it really necessary to have an enormous photo of somebody's eyeball being operated on? Were they _trying_ to make people sick?

Quinn rolled over quietly and Rachel smiled down at her. She looked just as repulsed by the posters as Rachel, and Rachel played with her golden hair while she waited.

"Okay, Rachel." The doctor started, clapping his hands against his thighs and rolling closer to Rachel and Quinn. "Rachel Berry-Fabray." He winked at Quinn. Rachel patted her wife's head.

"You are perfectly healthy." He continued. "Your blood pressure's on the high end of normal, so it's possible that's what caused your symptoms."

Rachel nodded. She was not surprised. She kept a hand tangled in Quinn's hair, and Quinn gripped her calf while they listened.

"You're probably just tired." The doctor stated clearly. "Worn out, physically. Maybe emotionally. But there are some things you could do that would help with the fatigue."

Rachel swung her leg against the table. She waved her hand for the doctor to continue when he raised his eyebrows.

"Now, I know you recently got married, which can obviously increase stress, even if it's _good_ stress." The doctor explained, smiling at Quinn, "Maybe you've been working harder than usual, consuming a lot of caffeine."

Rachel blinked. Marriage and coffee. They would do her in.

She refused to confirm his suspicion of her coffee addiction. "Okay." She said simply. "What can I do?"

Rachel twitched her leg when Quinn's hand digging into her calf became uncomfortable. Quinn looked up at her apologetically and Rachel ruffled her hair.

"Relax. That's the best advice. Just enjoy married life and sleep and _relax_. Out of the context of a wedding or a honeymoon. Maybe hang out with friends." The doctor explained, making eye contact with both Rachel and Quinn. "Your diet is actually very healthy. Just make sure you cut back on the coffee, and alcohol if you drink a lot. Eat more fruit, exercise daily. Take some time every day to relax. Yoga would actually be great."

Rachel actually snorted at that. The doctor smiled, even if he didn't understand why.

"But you're young, Rachel, and you're perfectly fine." He assured confidently.

Rachel nodded, pleased.

"Is there anything else we can do?" Quinn asked quietly. "Rachel's very…intense. I think she…exhausts herself just doing daily things…" Quinn trailed off and Rachel leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

The doctor smiled kindly at her. "I made a list of what I just said, and I added some foods on there that could help, but there's no need to change anything major. Rachel is very healthy."

Quinn swallowed and nodded. She spun around to face Rachel when the doctor left the room, and slipped the flip-flops back onto her wife's feet.

"It's fucking Cornelius." Rachel said with a straight face, trying to make Quinn smile. "He's going to be the death of me."

Quinn stared at Rachel's feet as a smile grew on her face. "Don't swear." She muttered.

"I'm _fine_, baby." Rachel said, tilting Quinn's chin up. "Thank you for calling me intense, by the way, and saying I wear myself out like a toddler, but _I'm fine_."

Quinn put her hands on Rachel's knees. "I'm taking away your coffee."

That was like a punch to the gut. But Rachel saw it coming. She sighed dramatically and nodded. Quinn rolled up closer and kissed Rachel's knee.

"And I'm never letting you out of bed unless you sleep for eight whole hours."

Rachel heaved another exaggerated sigh.

"And we're going to do _real _yoga from now on." Quinn continued, though she couldn't even finish that sentence with a straight face. "None of that bouncy ball stuff."

Rachel chuckled and nodded. "The stuff you started?"

Quinn looked indignant. "Um, they're _your _giant balls, little bear. You crashed into the wall before I did."

But Quinn followed right along, Sugar Puffs in hand.

"And you'll take care of me?" Rachel continued jokingly.

Quinn tickled behind Rachel's knees with a smile. "Always."

~oooooooooo~

Rachel walked out of the kitchen with a tray of sandwiches to find Quinn sitting on the floor in front of the couch, messing with the laptop on the coffee table. She was being harassed on both sides by Cloud and Barnaby, but she just frowned at the screen in front of her, focusing on her task.

Rachel held the plate up in the air and slid in behind Quinn, plopping on the couch with her knees on either side of Quinn's shoulders. She leaned forward and rested her head on a mop of blonde hair.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked, squinting at the screen. She kept the sandwiches high up out of reach of the dogs.

Quinn didn't turn around. "I sent my Sim to fix the dishwasher, and she came back blackened and in her underwear."

Rachel nodded slowly. That's probably what would happen if _she_ had to fix a dishwasher.

She took a turkey sandwich off the plate and wound her hand around Quinn's head, holding it in front of her mouth. Quinn twisted for a moment and smiled warmly at Rachel before taking a bite.

"Fank oo." She murmured, returning to her game.

Rachel squeezed Quinn's shoulders with her knees.

"So, bear. Santana said they'd get in tomorrow, and then the day after we could go down to San Diego and stay with Sam."

Only Rachel would require a mini-vacation to recover from her honeymoon.

Quinn made a noise of approval around her mouthful of food. Rachel was excited to go to SeaWorld. Especially to see Sam frolicking around in the pool with his whales. Quinn would probably want to dive right in. Rachel might need a leash. A _cage_.

"I sent my husband to fix the dishwasher, and he caught on fire and died." Quinn remarked sadly, staring at the Grim Reaper on her screen. Rachel struggled to keep from laughing. "His children were being taken by social services so I removed the doors to their bedrooms."

Good plan.

Rachel snorted and kissed the top of Quinn's head. "Bear, why do you have a _husband_?" she asked in an offended tone.

Quinn spun around and put both hands on Rachel's knees, looking up at her earnestly. Rachel raised her eyebrows and held the sandwich in front of Quinn's face. Quinn shook her head. Rachel pressed it to her lips. Quinn snorted and pushed it away.

"I can't wait to have babies with you." She blurted. Then she furrowed her brow and shook her head around.

Rachel grinned. "Our babies will be beautiful."

Especially if they come out of Quinn. Rachel couldn't wait to have little golden haired bears scampering around the apartment. Playing on the floor. Climbing up the curtains. Riding the animals. Riding the animals up the curtains.

Quinn nodded. Her eyes darted around a bit before landing back on Rachel's. "When?" she asked quietly.

Rachel raised her eyebrows. She almost answered "right now," just to see Quinn's reaction.

"Are you asking me when I want to try to have children?" she checked. She felt weird having this conversation with one arm straight up in the air attached to a plate of sandwiches. Like she was posing as the Statue of Liberty. Having a nice little chat about babies.

Quinn nodded, looking up at Rachel with honest hazel eyes.

Rachel tilted her head. "I think…when you're done with vet school we can look into it. When we're back in New York?"

Quinn scooted closer and moved her hands from Rachel's knees to her thighs. "So-so I could carry it, while you're back on Broadway?"

Rachel hummed and smiled. "That's one possibility. Or I could take more time off. We'll figure it out, baby."

Quinn swallowed and kissed Rachel's thigh before looking back up at her. "I made our family too." She said, gesturing to the game. "You're my wife, and we have four sets of twins."

Oh, Jesus Christ.

"I don't know why they keep multiplying." Quinn continued, frowning. "But I don't like to play them because I'm scared something will happen to them."

Rachel was touched. Quinn showed more love for her virtual children than some people did for their _actual_ children. All eight of them.

"That's…a lot of children." Rachel remarked.

Quinn hummed. "How many do you want?" she asked sweetly, tapping Rachel's knee.

Rachel was once again graced with the mental image of multiple Quinns. A household full of Quinns. Eight Quinns, a Rachel, and ten animals. But by then they'd have something like a flock of sheep or a herd of cows as well, in their backyard. Maybe an ostrich. A flock of ostriches. Rachel loved the image, however mildly terrifying it was.

"I think…a couple." She answered vaguely, playing with Quinn's hair. "One from each of us? Or more from you. Or me. When I was little I used to picture having three little clones of myself."

Rachel used to think that there was absolutely nothing that the world needed more than extra Rachel Berrys. She could turn the universe into a musical. Now she knew there was one thing the Earth needed, and it was extra Quinn Fabrays.

Quinn chuckled. "We could name our kids Rachel Jr., Rachel the Third, and Rachel the Fourth."

Rachel hummed and nodded. "That wouldn't be confusing at _all_."

"I'd call you 'favorite Rachel.' Because you're my favorite." Quinn clarified.

Because _that_ wouldn't give their children a complex.

"You're my favorite too." Rachel murmured.

Quinn hummed. "You know, you're like a giraffe." She stated.

Of course.

Rachel didn't even blink. She just waited for the explanation. She leaned forward so her face was inches from Quinn's and smiled for her wife to continue.

"They have higher blood pressure because they have to pump blood all the way up their necks, so I think they'd get exhausted as well. Just doing everyday things. And maybe they love better than other animals. I don't really know how giraffes love."

"Ah." Rachel nodded in understanding. _Mild_ understanding. She was hanging on by a thread. Her free hand went instinctively to her neck. Quinn watched it and pulled it away with a smile.

"But you give the best love. And giraffes fight by swinging their necks together." Quinn informed.

Well. If Rachel could, she would.

"Are you-are you excited for San Diego?" Quinn continued uncertainly.

Children's names to giraffes to San Diego. Rachel had learned to go with the flow.

"Quinn." Rachel finally just put the plate on the couch, inciting a free-for-all with the dogs, and took both of Quinn's hands. "It is exactly what I need. I am relaxed. I am happy. Planning the wedding was stressful, but it's over now, and it was wonderful. I want to see our friends, and go to SeaWorld with you, and play with Shamu, because I feel _great_. Okay?"

Quinn puffed out her cheeks and nodded. Rachel kissed her and then tugged on her shoulders until she turned back to the screen. She sighed at whatever was happening now.

"The mom got stuck in the wall." She lamented.

Rachel did not know what that meant. It made about as much sense as her own life. It was not out of the realm of reason that she'd get stuck in a wall. She _had_ gotten sort of stuck in the wall when they'd first started playing with the yoga balls.

Maybe Rachel could use Life Alert now. Carry around a handy button and yell out "I've fallen and I can't get up" when she had problems.

Except that button would end up in something's stomach. Something like Cornelius.

Rachel smiled to herself and watched Quinn sort out her fictional family. She grabbed the blanket on the back of the couch and wrapped it around Quinn's shoulders like a cape, then slid onto the floor next to her.

Barnaby ate the rest of the tiny sandwiches like he knew they were his all along.

"Alright, bear, let's play our mini-family." Rachel said. "We won't let anything happen to them."

When Quinn opened the game, there were ten children milling about the house. There were three horses on the front porch, a deformed dog on the kitchen table, and a horde of friends and strangers dancing around a jukebox. Rachel could picture all of it happening in real life.

~oooooooooo~

Rachel wasn't really surprised when she went to pick up Santana and Brittany at the airport, and found that their flight had been delayed two hours due to severe summer thunderstorms. It hadn't rained in Davis for months. It was like a drought, except it was just normal summer weather. Rachel felt like she was living in a desert sometimes. And then she'd return to New York and complain about it raining _all the fucking time._

It was now after midnight, and she was trying to sneak into her own house as quietly as possible, with two of the loudest friends she'd ever had. Rachel opened the front door slowly and stepped inside, flipping on the light in the entryway.

Butter sat on the table where Rachel put her keys, staring at her like she'd been waiting there for hours. She didn't even blink. It was like a horror movie. Rachel dragged her gaze away from the alien-colored eyes and ushered Brittany and Santana inside.

Brittany gasped as soon as she saw Butter and rushed forward to pet her.

"Where are your other eight?" Santana asked loudly, dumping her bags right next to the door and ignoring the loud crash they made.

"Shhhh." Rachel hissed.

Santana held her hands up innocently.

Barnaby and Cornelius came barreling out of the hallway, and Rachel sighed. They surrounded Brittany because they realized they wouldn't be getting lots of love from Santana. And they saw Rachel every day. She probably bored them.

Or they knew they'd end up locked in the bathroom if they bothered her.

"So, guest bed?" Santana looked at Rachel expectantly, ignoring the cat climbing up her leg.

Rachel led Brittany and Santana through the living room in the dark. Santana dragged the suitcases behind them, hitting every available surface with a nice big thump. Rachel stubbed her toe on the side table and screamed silently right outside the guest bedroom.

She almost had a heart attack when she caught a shadow out of the corner of her eye, but she looked up to see Quinn standing in the doorway to their bedroom. Half asleep. Or fully asleep. Rachel couldn't tell.

Quinn's hair was a mess, and she wore sleep shorts and her dinosaur t-shirt, Fuzzy the lion dangling from one hand. She stared tiredly at the group in the hall.

"Quinn!" Brittany whisper-screamed, bulldozing past Rachel to give her friend a hug.

"Hi." Quinn said softly, stumbling into the wall. Brittany caught her firmly by the shoulders.

"Is she awake?" Santana asked Rachel, amused. "Lucid?"

Rachel stepped forward and put a hand on top of Quinn's head, and then slid it down to her sleep-warmed cheek. "You awake, bear?" she asked, smiling fondly up at her.

Quinn hummed. She hugged Fuzzy to her chest and looked over Rachel's shoulder, smiling slightly at Santana.

Santana huffed. "What, are we strangers now? I'm gonna be locked in a car with you people for eight hours tomorrow. Step up, Sunny Delight."

Quinn shuffled around Rachel to get to Santana. She took a little detour, stopping to pet the dogs for a minute, and had a nice quiet conversation with them while everybody watched. Then she straightened back up and hugged Santana tightly.

"Welcome to California." Quinn said with a smile.

Santana took her by the shoulders and turned her around, guiding her right back to Rachel. Quinn didn't seem awake enough at the moment to do it herself. Rachel wrapped her arm around her sleepy wife.

"Go back to bed, baby." She instructed quietly.

Quinn shook her head, and then lost her balance and tumbled into Rachel's side. "I'll wait for you."

"God, take her to bed before she passes out." Santana said with a disgusted expression. She turned back to the guest bedroom and started lugging the suitcases through the door. "And FYI, we're shutting this so none of your dumbass animals can smother us in the middle of the night, okay?"

"San, no!" Brittany exclaimed, even while Rachel nodded. "Benjamin loves you, remember? And the cats. They have to sleep with us."

Oh yeah. Benjamin loved Santana. She was the only one who'd put up a fight when he attacked them with his massive feet. Rachel could already see him waiting on the guest bed. Like a lover. Come on in honey, I won't bite.

"They'll be good." Quinn murmured, face pressed into Rachel's shoulder, eyes closed.

Santana stared at her. Brittany mouthed "don't" at her girlfriend, and then dragged Santana into the bedroom with a happy "goodnight, sleep tight!" thrown over her shoulder.

Rachel gently pushed Quinn back into their own bedroom, only letting go when Quinn toppled onto the bed. Rachel put her pajamas on and climbed in next to her, carefully avoiding kicking Charizard in the face. Quinn sighed happily and wrapped Rachel up in her octopus trap.

"We should do it." She mumbled, sloppily kissing Rachel's ear.

She was probably aiming for Rachel's cheek. Or even her mouth. Which is why they should not "do it."

Rachel pushed blonde hair out of Quinn's eyes. "Just go to sleep, baby. You don't know what you're saying."

Quinn frowned, eyes still closed. "I do. I want to…have sex with you now." She tightened her hold on Rachel, and Rachel chuckled quietly.

"You can't even open your eyes, bear." She said softly.

Quinn sighed again. "We-we should play games in bed."

Oh God.

That could mean literally playing Monopoly while sitting in bed, or it could mean something _much_ more fun. Rachel was opposed to playing Monopoly in bed. Rachel was opposed to playing Monopoly at all. She wasn't fond of wasting days of her life.

"What do you mean?" she asked, leaning back slightly to look at Quinn's closed eyes.

For a second Rachel thought Quinn was sleeping. She was breathing deeply, warm face pressed into Rachel's arm and Fuzzy, but then she opened her mouth again. "We could make-we could make it more fun. We-we could gake-make up games. And get toys. And…And things."

Oh dear God.

Rachel did not know if Quinn would remember any of this in the morning, but she would surely remind her of it. It sounded like a glorious idea, and Rachel was not surprised at all that Quinn was the one to bring it up.

"I'll play games with you." Rachel assured softly. She snuggled up closer to Quinn and finally closed her eyes.

"Okay. Little…giraffe." Quinn murmured.

"Bear." Rachel whispered.

"Bear giraffe." Quinn corrected herself sleepily.

Rachel chuckled into Quinn's shoulder and fell asleep with a smile on her face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 4: Sunshine, I'm Beginning to Like This **

Quinn was a huge fan of road trips. She loved the food and the scenery, and being able to just sit in one place for hours upon end, thinking and listening to music. So she was very excited for the drive down to San Diego. With her wife and her friends. And it would all culminate in a meeting with a killer whale, so Quinn was vibrating with energy in the passenger seat when they set off in Rachel's car at eight a.m.

But that was four hours ago.

All she could really comprehend now was that her knees were essentially bending backwards, and Santana had gone off on some kind of power trip, currently road-raging them through the mountains of central California.

Rachel and Quinn had been relegated to the backseat after Rachel refused to stop singing along with the radio. Quinn had defended her by joining her in song. Santana hadn't appreciated that.

Quinn thumped her head against the window and stretched her legs out diagonally in the backseat. She whined in frustration. Rachel didn't notice because she'd been dying for a bathroom break for three hours.

Quinn watched her wife's knees bounce up and down. She twisted a little and pressed one of her cramped legs against the back of Santana's seat.

"Santana, can we please stop?" Quinn asked for the twentieth time. She bounced her knee lightly to make the driver's seat shake.

"Whose fucking idea was this?" Santana complained, ignoring the question and eyeing a sign that said they had three hundred and fifty miles to go. "Why is California so god damn huge? I didn't sign up for this mountain shit."

Quinn frowned. She assumed those questions were rhetorical.

Rachel put a hand on Quinn's thigh to get her to take her foot off the back of the seat.

"I can hold it." Rachel assured, voice wavering slightly, unnaturally high-pitched.

Quinn unbuckled her seatbelt and shifted to the middle seat. Her legs were basically inverted back up inside her body, but she was next to Rachel.

"Let me distract you." She suggested. Distracting Rachel was always easy. All she had to do was puff out her cheeks and look sweet, or tell her she's short, or enlighten her about animals.

So many options.

Quinn pushed Rachel back against the door and covered her mouth with a kiss. Rachel squealed happily in surprise and wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck, letting their lips glide together sloppily. Rachel tasted like coffee. She must have snuck some in somewhere along the way.

Quinn cancelled it out with the Fruit-by-the-Foot on her own tongue. She flicked Rachel's cheek because coffee was _not_ allowed.

"Whoa! Whoa! No! You-Don't do that shit back there!" Santana sputtered from the front seat. She twisted around and Quinn felt the car swerve. Santana would probably send them off the edge of the mountain.

Brittany's blue eyes peered through the crack between her seat and the head rest. She smiled brightly at them. "Awww. They're just passing the time."

Santana half-scoffed, half-groaned, half-sped-them-over-a-cliff in her frustration.

Quinn kept herself braced on the door, lips attached to Rachel's.

Rachel pulled back about an inch and looked up at her curiously, breathing lightly against Quinn's neck.

"Do you remember what you said last night, bear? Or were you…sleep-talking?" Rachel asked, amused.

Quinn puffed out her cheeks as she thought.

"Oh my fucking God, drive faster!" Santana yelled in the front seat.

"_Santana_." Quinn murmured, probably only loud enough for Rachel to hear. She didn't like tension. Or aggression. It made her bounce and rock and pull at her rubber band until everything was quiet again.

Rachel reached forward and shoved Santana in the shoulder, ignoring the glare she was sent. Then she collapsed back against the door. Quinn ducked away when Rachel tried to ruffle her hair.

She watched the scenery go by over Rachel's shoulder. "It would be cool to live at the top of a mountain." Quinn remarked honestly.

Rachel chuckled and put a cool palm against one of Quinn's flushed cheeks. "You didn't answer my question, bear."

Well. Now Quinn was fascinated with the idea of jumping off the balcony of her future mountain house and hang-gliding into the valley. She could strap Rachel onto her back. Rachel would probably love that.

Quinn refocused when Rachel tugged on her ear, watching her with smiling brown eyes.

"I remember." Quinn stated. She added a wink for good measure. Her memory was a little blurry with sleep, but she could recall their conversation.

Rachel seemed surprised. "You-So…So, toys, huh?" she said lowly, obviously trying to keep this conversation away from Santana's ears. Her voice cracked halfway through and Quinn grinned delightedly.

"Only if you want. I like to make up games. But I'm not-I don't…" Quinn trailed off and scrunched up her face, trying to come up with the right words. Rachel tapped her cheek patiently.

"It'll be fun to make up sex games." Quinn said bluntly. Words just tumbled out sometimes. She just could not think of a different way to phrase that. But she was pleased when Rachel turned bright red and pressed her face into Quinn's shoulder with a laugh. Or a groan. Quinn couldn't hear much over Brittany's singing right now.

"But I'm-I don't know what…people do… with toys." Quinn admitted uncertainly. "Or-You're my-my only, so…"

"Quinn." Rachel interrupted with a smile. "Do you think I've been to a sex shop before? That I have…a suitcase full of cuffs and lube and vibrators and-"

Quinn's eyes widened. "Cuffs? People use-they-they _handcuff _each other?"

She really thought that was just in movies. She'd be too worried about Rachel's soft wrists to do that.

"Okay." Santana called from the front seat. "I just heard the word cuffs. So you two need to spin your little conversation in a new direction before I vomit all over myself and crash your god damn car."

Rachel just smiled fondly at Quinn. Quinn was waiting for confirmation that people actually handcuffed each other in the real world.

"It's pretty popular." Rachel said with a shrug. She grabbed both of Quinn's ears and pulled her forward to kiss her nose. "But we'll start really slowly. Learn together, right?"

Quinn nodded. She pulled on Rachel until she was leaning into her side. Quinn noticed that Rachel's knees had stopped bouncing. She smiled to herself. She was a wonderful distraction. The best. Even if the subsequent conversation had blown her mind a little bit.

"We should hang-glide off a mountain." Quinn commented, staring out the window again and ignoring Santana's complaining about how the distance on the signs kept increasing as they got closer to San Diego.

"Strap me to your back and jump, baby." Rachel remarked, hugging Quinn's arm to her chest.

Quinn smiled. She knew it would probably never happen, but Rachel always gave her hope. That she could jump off a mountain and hang-glide over the valley, or visit the polar bears in the Arctic. Rachel always left hope for her that she could actually do those things. She rarely treated them like jokes.

And for that, Quinn was thankful. She stretched out her legs, wincing at all the cracking noises, and pulled Rachel further into her side. She had so many plans to share and three hundred and fifty more miles to do so.

~oooooooooo~

Unfortunately, Quinn only got as far as "go rock climbing with mountain goats in Colorado" before she fell asleep with her head on Rachel's shoulder. They showed up in the dark, four hours late, to Sam's little house on the outskirts of San Diego. Quinn was the first out of the car to greet her friend, and she gave Rachel a piggy-back ride inside to the guest room.

Rachel groaned and buried her face in Quinn's hair when she saw the giant stuffed seal on the bed. Quinn almost dropped her wife in her rush to pick it up. It was literally half the size of Rachel. Quinn could not fit her arms around it.

She was delighted.

"Rachel!" Quinn exclaimed with a huge smile, pushing the face of the seal into that of her sleepy wife.

Rachel shoved it away with a laugh and collapsed on the bed. Quinn heard a chuckle from the door and turned to see Sam standing there with an easy smile on his face.

"I thought it'd be a nice start to your SeaWorld experience." He explained. He twisted when Santana came up behind him, looking tired and annoyed.

Her jaw dropped and she held up both hands to point at the giant seal. "Oh no! We are not shoving that fucking thing in the car for the drive back!" She stated loudly. "You'll have to air-mail that shit!"

Quinn hugged her seal to her body protectively, half-obscuring her face.

"Go to sleep, Santana." Rachel slurred from the bed with a sloppy glare. Quinn could see she was seconds from rolling over the edge, so she gave Sam a thank you hug and bopped his face with the seal before shutting the door and tending to her wife.

Rachel tended to lose all control when she was tired. If she had any to begin with.

Quinn tossed the massive stuffed animal on top of her, and then tugged her more into the middle of the bed.

"It's crushing me." Rachel whined jokingly.

Quinn pulled the seal away so that she could take its place, draping herself over Rachel and resting her chin on Rachel's chest.

"Oh no, that's even worse." Rachel chuckled softly, deepening her breathing so that Quinn was lifted up and down.

"Name my seal." Quinn demanded quietly, moving some of her weight to her elbows so that she didn't give Rachel respiratory problems.

Rachel hummed quietly. Quinn ran a hand through her dark hair and kissed her chin.

"I think…Rachel Barbra Berry is a good name." Rachel suggested quietly. She tried to wink, but it only made it seem like half her face was spazzing.

Quinn nodded against her chest. "The best."

"But he's from SeaWorld, so call him…Shamu." Rachel continued.

Quinn shook her head in veto. "I'm getting an actual Shamu to call Shamu."

Rachel snorted lightly, bouncing Quinn around. "A real whale, bear? I don't know if that'll fit in the car."

"I'll ride him home up the coast."

And that was the moment Quinn added "ride a whale" to her bucket list. Any type of whale, really. Even if she was just dragged around by the dorsal fin like they did at SeaWorld.

"Good plan." Rachel commented, yawning widely. "Call him Dolphin."

Quinn grinned and moved up Rachel's body until she could see her tired, brown eyes. "You like that name?"

Rachel lolled her head around. "A seal named Dolphin. It's perfect for you."

"Okay." Quinn agreed, rolling herself to Rachel's side and cuddling up behind her.

Then tomorrow, when she got a stuffed dolphin, she could name it Seal. It would be glorious.

~oooooooooo~

Standing at the boarding zone for Journey to Atlantis, Rachel looked she was about to embark on an Arctic expedition. She wore Quinn's sweatshirt, Sam's jacket with the hood pulled up, and two extra ponchos.

It was a flume ride. They were not jumping off a waterfall. But Quinn thought she looked adorable so she didn't say anything.

"It's like jumping off a waterfall." Rachel complained, though she moved to the front of the line without Quinn having to drag her.

Quinn was rocking on her feet. She put an arm around Rachel's shoulders excitedly. Rachel put her foot on top of Quinn's, anchoring her flat on the floor.

"You have to sit in the front, Rachel." Sam instructed with a grin. Santana laughed from somewhere behind him.

Rachel looked horrified. "_Why_? It'll be like-like-"

"Jumping off a waterfall." Quinn supplied with a smile, now swaying because she couldn't bounce on her toes.

"You're tiny." Sam said simply. "We'll be more aerodynamic."

Quinn stared at him. They were not _flying_. "Or…streamlined." She said, nudging Rachel in the ribs. "Because you're smaller."

Rachel huffed and tried to cross her arms, but got tangled in all her ponchos. Quinn chose not to say anything else. She worked on waterproofing her wife until the boat came up, hitting the bumpers and sloshing around in the water.

Quinn climbed in, almost tripping over the edge in her excitement, and she held a hand out to help Rachel. Rachel settled in the front, whining unintelligibly at the feel of the water on her butt, and Quinn sat down, flush against her back. Santana, Brittany, and Sam stumbled their way in after her.

Quinn was wondering how in the world Sam's legs were long enough to reach her from his position at the back when the boat started moving. She wrapped her arms around Rachel's waist and made sure the hoods were up on her ponchos.

"Ready, little bear?" she checked happily.

She received a shriek in reply when their boat rounded a corner and took on a load of water.

Quinn thought it would be fun to capsize. It was just a little boat, and the water was totally clean. Or so it seemed. Then they could freestyle the rest of the ride. Except somebody would probably get their legs trapped in whatever contraption ran the flume at the end. And drown.

Quinn clutched Rachel tightly and watched their "journey through Atlantis" in awe. The closest she'd come to this was some crappy coaster at Coney Island.

And she had to admit, she was a little bit scared. But she focused on making sure Rachel didn't get soaked or frightened, and that made it better.

"Alright. I'm pretty sure that last curve snapped my back." Santana commented loudly. Quinn jumped a little because it was right in her ear.

Santana laughed and sloshed some water up the back of her jeans. "Whoa, no jumping ship, Sunshine!"

Rachel twisted her body around in a panic. "Quinn Fabray! You keep your arms inside this boat!"

Quinn ignored Santana's cackling and kissed the side of Rachel's head. "I'm not going anywhere, baby."

Purposely. She might _accidentally_ tumble out into the water, and Santana would probably be to blame for that.

"I think we're going in circles." Brittany called absently from somewhere in the back.

Rachel leaned back into Quinn and looked up at her face. "You okay, bear? Ready for the drop?"

Quinn opened her mouth to respond, but faltered. She hadn't thought that far ahead. But really, _that's_ why Rachel was prepared for such major soakage. Quinn wasn't prepared. What the hell had she done to prepare?

Absolutely nothing.

It was a high drop. Completely new to her.

Quinn eyes widened as Rachel watched her. Her words got stuck in her throat. She was surprised when a hand reached up behind her and tugged on her hair.

"We got this, Sunny Delight." Santana said loudly over the sound of rushing water. Quinn flinched away because she was yelling in her ear. "Berry will be your airbag. Just don't jump out."

"I'm not an _airbag_!" Rachel yelled, leaning around Quinn to catch Santana's eye.

She settled back down as the drop approached and wrapped Quinn's arms around her waist. "Just hold me, bear." She said quietly, reaching behind to tap Quinn's cheek.

Quinn could do that. She curled her toes in excitement and anticipation and little bit of fear as they loomed at the top of the drop.

The last thing Quinn heard was "holy fucking hell" from Santana, and then they took the sixty-foot plunge. It was exhilarating. Rachel's scream was carried back to the other riders on the boat. Probably to the rest of the world. And Quinn was deafened by Santana's.

They were stopped by sheer force of water, which Rachel took the brunt of, and they spent a good silent minute shaking and gasping at being so cold.

"Chiropractor! I need a chiropractor!" Sam shouted from the back.

"Yep! Yep!" Santana cried out, obviously a little high on adrenaline. "I went a little Exorcist on that last turn. I think my neck got shorter."

Quinn pulled the poncho hoods off Rachel's head and kissed her wet cheek. Rachel half-laughed, half-cried out helplessly. When they pulled up to the boarding zone, Quinn stood up and held Rachel by the hips to help her out of the boat.

She fought the urge to laugh at the sight of Rachel's soaked jeans, and settled for slapping her butt lightly.

"These were absolutely useless!" Rachel shrieked, tearing the ponchos over her head. "What about-what about peoples' lower halves? That's the fucking problem!"

"Rachel." Quinn chided softly, half-scolding, half-smiling. She took Rachel's wrist and guided her to the edge of the exit path. She tried to ignore the hilarity of the situation. And the statement "what about peoples' lower halves."

Rachel really was drenched. It was like she'd jumped in a pool. She'd effectively acted as a shield for everybody else, and Quinn felt a little bad.

Rachel exhaled deeply and looked up at Quinn. A little of the intensity left her eyes. Quinn pushed the wet hair back off her face and kissed her forehead. "Calm down, baby. This counts as _stress_."

Rachel took another deep breath and smiled up at Quinn. "_God_. That was-that was fun. Really. Just shocking. And really, somebody needs to design poncho pants. I'm just…" Rachel looked hopelessly down at her jeans.

They were slipping off her hips because they were weighed down with water. Quinn eyed the skin visible between them and the bottom of Rachel's shirt and smirked.

Rachel shoved her lightly in the chest.

"You'll dry." Quinn assured. "But…um, not-not until after the Shamu show because that will just soak you again. Please."

Quinn was very excited for the Shamu show. Orcas always seemed like they were smiling. If she could have her own whale, it would be a blue whale, though. Just for the sheer size. She could use it to rule the seas.

Rachel chuckled at something, probably Quinn's expression, and tugged on the front of Quinn's soaked shirt. "Did you have fun?"

Quinn grinned brightly. "Can we do it again?"

"Can we go see the polar bears without spending five hours watching them?" Rachel countered, raising an eyebrow.

Quinn hesitated. She didn't know. She couldn't make any promises. She puffed out her cheeks and refused to answer, laughing when Rachel ruffled her wet hair and dragged her after their impatient friends to see Sam swim with Shamu.

~oooooooooo~

If Rachel wasn't soaked before, she definitely was after the Shamu show. But so was everybody who sat in the "soak zone." Quinn was thrilled when the whales came around splashing water out of the arena. Santana told her it was whale pee, but Rachel told her Santana was just being an ass.

Quinn didn't know what to believe. But she was being splashed by killer whales, so she didn't really care.

Sam wasn't at the level yet where he was standing on Shamu's nose as he flew through the air, but he was in the water being dragged around while holding onto the big, floppy dorsal fins.

Quinn was very proud of him. She stood up and clapped loudly when he got the whale to splash them.

Now she was standing with him and their friends on the wet deck after the show, inches away from one of the smaller killer whales.

Sam stood in front of the whale holding some raw fish and keeping his other hand in the air. Probably to control the beast. Santana and Brittany stood off to the side in case it flew off the handle in a rage, and Rachel only stayed close to stop Quinn from impulsively climbing onto its back and riding off into the sunset.

Sam smiled at Quinn and gestured to the whale. "You can touch him. Go ahead."

Quinn looked at him with wide eyes. That had to be too good to be true. He was tricking her.

"Uh, wait a second." Rachel interrupted, looking very concerned.

"It's okay." Sam said, nodding easily. "He's on the deck, he's our best behaved, and I've got fish. We do this all the time."

Oh my God. _All the time_. How could Quinn get this job? Maybe she could moonlight as an animal trainer when she became a vet.

She reached her hand out slowly and pressed her palm against the whale's head, a little bit behind his eye. She gasped and stared at where her hand made contact. It was smooth, like the sting rays they'd touched earlier, but not as slimy.

Quinn looked up at Rachel with wide, smiling eyes, completely awestruck. "Rachel." She whispered.

She needed to share this feeling. It was unbelievable.

Rachel smiled and nodded at her. "I know, baby. What does he feel like?"

"It's-it's-I-" Quinn shook her head because she couldn't think straight at the moment. She gently grabbed Rachel's arm with her free hand, pulling her closer. Rachel inhaled sharply in surprise when her small hand was pressed next to Quinn's on the whale.

It was much more exciting than the turtles that had mobbed her in Hawaii.

She shuffled away after a second, smiling brightly, but probably still a little afraid of the huge animal. Quinn pulled away too and bounced on her toes in the shallow water. These were the kinds of things she lived for.

"Rachel!" she exclaimed more loudly, backing up to wrap her arms around her wife. "We touched a whale!"

Rachel raked a wet hand through Quinn's hair, creating temporary spikes. "One more thing to cross off your list, bear." She said with a smile.

The whale slid back off the deck and into the pool, and Sam said that he'd meet everybody at the polar bear enclosure. It was called Arctic Adventure, and it was freezing. And everybody was soaking. Quinn pouted and puffed up and whined until she got everybody to stay for at least twenty minutes to watch the bears.

They'd driven _eight hours_ for this. It was worth it. And so she sat happily with her friends and watched the bears sleep.

It was only when Rachel started shivering violently that Quinn realized it probably wouldn't be fun to catch hypothermia at SeaWorld. They stopped at the gift shop before they left, and Quinn bought Rachel a sweatshirt to warm her up and a giant stuffed dolphin that she named Seal. Rachel got her an enormous stuffed Shamu.

Sam blasted the heat in his truck as he pulled out of the parking space in the dark.

Quinn sat between Rachel and Brittany in the backseat, rubbing Rachel's arm to warm her up.

"You're rubbing all my skin away." Rachel said quietly, smiling and stilling Quinn's hands.

Brittany frowned, leaning against the door with her eyes closed, trying to fall asleep. "Ew."

Quinn frowned and hugged Rachel's arm to her instead. She wanted to keep her warm. All the time. Rachel leaned into her side and closed her eyes. They seemed to be trapped in the parking lot. Gridlocked by the masses fleeing from SeaWorld at closing time.

Rachel hummed some random tune. Quinn was seconds from falling asleep when she felt the weight lifted off her shoulder.

"Whoa. What's happening?" Rachel whispered, leaning in front of Quinn's face.

Quinn opened her eyes and focused on Rachel's head in the dark. She looked out the window to see an ambulance and a fire truck pulled up in front of the park, lights flashing. Several people in various uniforms scurried around.

"Oh shit." Santana murmured from the front passenger seat. Brittany looked concerned. The traffic still hadn't budged.

Quinn twisted her fingers in Rachel's shirt and stared out the window with wide eyes. Rachel played with her fingers. She was sort of ashamed to admit that her first thought was "Oh no, one of the animals is hurt."

Because animals ride around in ambulances.

"Maybe the whales got someone." Santana speculated lowly, obviously invested in only the most extreme cases requiring an ambulance. Heart attacks would be too boring. "Or maybe someone toppled out of Atlantis like Berry predicted this morning."

Quinn whined and shook her head vigorously. God. _Never_. It was heart-wrenching to think like that.

"I didn't predict that, Santana." Rachel denied, watching Quinn knowingly. Quinn could feel her own breathing pick up.

"I'm sure it's something minor." Rachel continued, taking Quinn's hand and squeezing it.

It was like being forced to watch a terrible movie. Sam's truck had front row seats. The ambulance was right to their left when paramedics came rolling up with somebody in a gurney. Quinn twisted away from the window as soon as she caught sight of it.

"Oh. He looks fine." Santana said easily, observing the scene. "He's sitting up and everything."

Quinn bounced her knees. Rachel just nodded slowly, watching Quinn carefully.

Quinn knew her thoughts got caught and tangled in her head a lot. That's why her words came out jumbled quite often. When she voiced them at all. When she didn't, they swam around in her mind and took shapes and colors and mashed together until she didn't know what they were anymore.

Then, bam. Panic attack.

Quinn's mind was a blur.

"Quinn, everything is okay. Everybody's alright. Focus on that." Rachel insisted quietly.

There was vague yelling in the background. The paramedics seemed to be dawdling, so Quinn was sure that whoever was sitting up on the gurney was fine. The lights kept flashing though, and she pressed her hands over her eyes to block them out.

"We okay back there?" Santana called uncertainly, twisting slightly in her seat. Her eyes moved to Rachel, who nodded just slightly. Quinn nodded as well, eyes still closed. Except all she could see now was Sam getting hurt by a whale and Rachel falling out of a flume ride. It was a little ridiculous.

It just wound her up some more. Quinn opened her eyes and focused on the lovely brown ones in front of her. She pictured the bears she just saw, annoyed at herself.

Bears. Bears. Lions. People getting hurt. Bears. Penguins. Flashing lights.

"Rachel…help." She whined when she knew she couldn't stop this.

She started shaking her head around because she just could _not_ get rid of the pictures. Her hands tapped against her thighs and she rocked backwards into Brittany.

"Hey, Quinn, you okay?" Sam called, watching them in the mirror. Brittany put a hand on Quinn's back, but she flinched away. Santana leaned around the front seat and caught Brittany's eye. She shook her head and nodded in Rachel's direction. Brittany nodded in understanding and gave her a thumbs-up.

Quinn tried desperately to stop this from devolving into a panic attack. She was whining in her attempt to hold on to the _good_ pictures in her mind.

And then she heard that voice, and she knew it would make everything better.

Rachel wrapped her hand around the back of Quinn's neck and rubbed. "So, big bear, I touched a killer whale today. Can you believe it?" Rachel asked quietly, conversationally, tilting Quinn's head until she made eye contact.

Santana stared straight ahead in her seat, reaching back and holding Brittany's hand, giving Rachel and Quinn some privacy. Or giving the impression that they were getting some privacy. It was a truck trapped in a parking lot. There was not much privacy to be had. Sam did the same, avoiding his mirror and focusing on messing with the heat.

Rachel focused on Quinn. Quinn focused on the whale. She nodded at Rachel's question. Rachel was very brave. Of course Quinn would believe she'd touched a killer whale, even if she wasn't there to witness it.

"Yeah?" Rachel said, lips quirked up. She turned her head a little to meet Quinn's eyes. "What was your favorite today?"

Quinn's mind pushed the blurry, scary images away to shuffle through the animals and rides she'd seen that day. Her chest relaxed and she breathed deeper. She squeezed Rachel's thighs and felt the hand on her neck squeeze back.

"Bears." Quinn said, voice wobbly.

Rachel shook her head immediately. "Veto. You've used that too many times. Pick something else."

Quinn huffed and furrowed her brows, slowing her rocking. She sat up straighter when she had a new answer. "Penguins." Her voice was a little bit more determined.

Rachel scrunched up her face like she was thinking, then shook her head. "Nope. Next."

Quinn stared at her. She ran her hands up and down Rachel's legs as she thought. "The-the sea lion show."

Rachel shrugged and lolled her head around. "Eh."

"Dolphins." Quinn threw out, lips quirking up.

There was a wonderful slideshow in her mind right now, which Rachel had created. Her whole body relaxed.

Rachel smiled at her. "Nope. Give me another."

Quinn leaned in until her nose brushed against Rachel's, bracing herself on Rachel's thighs. "Seeing-seeing you soaking wet was fun." She said it like it was a challenge. A dare. She knew her wife would take that euphemism and run with it. It was so barely disguised. Quinn just wanted to see where it would end up.

Rachel breathed deeply and shook her head with a wry smile. "I know what you're doing."

Quinn raised her eyebrows. She was centered again. Rachel had centered her. Brought her back down when she'd spun away for a moment. She raised her eyebrows cheekily.

"I know what _you_ were doing." Quinn countered. "And…thank you. But you can't veto bears. You can-you can never veto bears."

Rachel chuckled and nodded along. Nobody could live in their household and veto bears. Rachel slowed her laughter and bit her lip, eyeing Quinn carefully. "Are you alright?"

The ambulance and fire truck had finally driven away, so the flashing was gone. It was quiet in the car. And God, so hot. Sam had taken playing with the heat very seriously.

"Sorry, I, um…" Quinn scrunched up her nose.

"Flew away?" Rachel said with a soft smile. "Never apologize, baby."

Quinn put a hand on Rachel's cheek. "We're both really warm." She observed.

"Taking care of it!" Sam called out, grinning in the rearview mirror. Proving that everybody in the car could hear every word of the previous conversation, no matter how much they ignored it.

"San, give Rachel your water." Brittany commanded, tugging on Santana's hand.

Santana sighed like it was a huge hassle and dug through her bag for the bottle. She twisted to hand it to Rachel, and fluffed Quinn's hair with a wink before spinning back around.

"I'll make you cookies when we get home." Quinn said softly, tugging Rachel back into her side.

It was a brilliant day, and cookies were the logical way to end it. Especially because Rachel was such a wonderful human being.

Rachel chuckled lightly. "In the middle of the night?"

Quinn nodded resolutely. Middle of the night. Hurricane, tornado, tidal wave, fire. Amidst a swarm of bees or sheep or lions. She'd find a way. It was in her vows.

"Your favorite kind." She assured, kissing Rachel's cheek.

Rachel fingered the fray on Quinn's shirt. "Make _your_ favorite kind. You'll feel even better."

"Okay." Quinn said quietly. "I'll make sugar cookies with lots of frosting."

Quinn had a plan. Rachel bumped their shoulders together.

"No, bear, that's my favorite kind. Make yours." Rachel remarked.

Quinn shook her head. "That's my favorite kind too."

Peanut butter would always be number one in Quinn's book. They were unbeatable. Sugar came somewhere around third or fourth. She kept up her poker face.

"Since when?" Rachel asked with a knowing smile, looking up to watch Quinn's eyes.

Quinn shrugged, bobbling Rachel's head around. "I dunno. Um, a week?"

Rachel snorted. "Or…three seconds."

"No." Quinn shut her mouth and closed her eyes like she was asleep.

"Quiiinnn." Rachel called quietly. Quinn listened to her voice, along with the sound of the heat blowing and the cars on the road. She didn't move.

Rachel kissed her cheek. Quinn could feel the smile on her face.

"Love you, bear." Rachel murmured.

"So much." Quinn breathed out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 5: You Laugh and Listen to My Mind**

While Trivial Pursuit did not induce as much rage as Monopoly, it had its own share of problems. Like logic-defying, nearly-impossible questions that served to perplex every player. Stump them for minutes on end while they cycled through their archive of useless knowledge.

There was a lot of yelling of "Who the fuck could possibly know that?"

And God help you if you landed on the _Literature_ category.

Rachel's version of the game was ten years old, and a lot of the stuff in it was obsolete. Which just made everything so much more fun. Somebody would land on _Geography_ and get the question wrong because _wars_ had passed since the game cards had been printed.

"_How many rings make up the arm on the Michelin man_?"

Fucking seriously?

Rachel skipped that question and moved down to the category Santana had landed on. She rolled her eyes at how easy it was.

"What do you fear will stick to the roof of your mouth if you have arachibutyrophobia?" she read aloud. Then she looked expectantly up at Santana and Brittany on the couch.

Rachel would say spiders because of the "arach," but that would just be ridiculous. Or incredibly terrifying and revolting. The only thing she could think of that would stick to the roof of somebody's mouth was peanut butter.

Quinn got on her knees and draped her arms over Rachel's shoulders. They were on the living room floor, lounging around with the animals on Santana and Brittany's last night in Davis. Jelly sat in Rachel's lap pawing at the card in her hand.

Quinn put her chin on Rachel's shoulder and started humming the Jeopardy tune.

Brittany swayed along, smiling and waiting for Santana to answer. "I think it's spiders or butter." She suggested helpfully.

Santana nodded sagely. "I think we're gonna go with peanut butter."

Quinn's humming got more dramatic as the song ended and she swayed Rachel violently from side to side. Rachel locked her body in place like a statue until Quinn gave up and moved to sit by her side instead.

"Peanut butter is correct." Rachel said unenthusiastically, handing over a plastic pie slice.

They only had a few left. Cornelius had eaten half of the mini plastic bag about an hour ago. He was now locked outside because Rachel did not want to see that colored plastic when it came out of him. In whatever form.

"So, Sunny Side," Santana started, throwing the dice in Quinn's direction, "how's married life? Berry's kept us so busy we haven't had time to _speak_."

Yes, Rachel had made a detailed schedule for Santana and Brittany's three days in California. It was jam packed with glorious fun, and Santana should be thankful. Otherwise, they'd have ended up trapped in the apartment or traipsing through the forest, lost and complaining about the lack of organization.

They'd ended up lost in the forest anyway during a bike ride, but that was because Santana couldn't read a map.

Rachel rolled her eyes and gently pried the die out of Quinn's hands. Quinn couldn't be trusted with them. If she didn't roll immediately, she'd toss them around, or juggle them or flick them with her thumbs. She'd already lost one. Somewhere in the couch cushions. Or in an animal.

Quinn didn't mind. She went right back to her whispered conversation with Charizard. Rachel tapped her cheek and pointed to Santana.

"Oh, um…" Quinn straightened up and looked at Rachel. Rachel raised her eyebrows. Quinn smiled sweetly. Adoringly. "It's like…we're…I don't-I think…"

Quinn stopped herself and scrunched up her face.

Rachel fought the urge to laugh. Hopefully Quinn wasn't trying to say that she despised marriage.

"It's like, you know how-how Pooh Bear said his favorite feeling is-is the one right before he eats a pot of honey?" Quinn asked, gazing earnestly at Santana. Santana met Rachel's eyes, sort of bewildered. Rachel grinned and nodded.

"Yes, we know." Brittany stated seriously.

"Well, I feel-I feel like that." Quinn stated, turning red and dropping her eyes. "Like, I think this day is the best one ever, but then-then I remember that I get to keep her for tomorrow as well. And every day after. Like a pot of honey that's always full."

Oh, man. Rachel never got tired of this. She smiled like a fool. Quinn stared down at her necklace, not meeting Rachel's eyes. She was flushed red. Rachel's face was splitting in half.

Santana was silent for a minute. "Shit, sunshine. That's…" she just shook her head and pulled Brittany into her side.

Rachel scooted herself around until she was cross-legged facing Quinn. She stared at her wife with a more controlled smile, waiting to see if she'd look up. She didn't. Rachel bent forward so that she was squished into herself, making her head low enough to catch Quinn's eyes.

Quinn smiled, darkening even further. "It's your turn to roll, Rachel." She murmured.

Rachel put her hands on Quinn's knees. "What was that?" she asked playfully. "What did you say?"

Quinn rocked forward on her butt, eyes on Rachel's mouth now. "It's our turn to roll the dice."

"No, before that." Rachel stated.

Quinn blinked. "What?"

"What did you say before that?" Rachel iterated with a smile. "About honey."

Quinn rocked back in realization, trying to control her own smile by keeping it close-mouthed. She shrugged and picked some fluff off her socks. "If I was Pooh Bear, you'd be my honey." She responded quietly.

It was statements like that that filled Rachel's heart to the brim. Till it was overflowing and making such a fucking mess that it had to externalize itself through happy tears and foolish smiles and impulsive actions.

Rachel leaned forward on her knees and planted a sloppy kiss on Quinn's mouth. Quinn hummed and grinned and squeezed Rachel's cheeks. It was like she knew exactly what to do to get the best kisses.

"Roll the fucking dice." Santana called out with a smile.

Rachel tried to pull away from Quinn, but Quinn caught her around the waist and plopped her in her lap. Rachel held up the dice in her closed fist for Quinn to kiss for luck.

Rachel rolled a two.

Santana stopped laughing long enough to read the question. "Which plane did Shirley Temple sing about in the 1934 film, _Bright Eyes_?"

Rachel grinned and bounced on Quinn's lap. Quinn grunted. "The Good Ship Lollipop!" she exclaimed. And then proceeded to sing. Because she was Rachel Berry.

"_On the good ship lollipop, it's a sweet trip to a candy shop, where bon-bons play on the sunny beach of Peppermint Bay_."

"Alright 50 cent." Santana held her hand up.

"Wait, what?" Quinn interjected loudly, turning Rachel in her lap to see her face. "What is that? A plane? It's not real, right?"

Because Quinn would be its captain.

Rachel laughed and grabbed Quinn's ears, pulling her closer to kiss her forehead. "No, baby. She was on a plane and singing about her pillowcase."

Quinn frowned. She was probably wondering why somebody would sing about their pillowcase. She looked a little disappointed.

Rachel tapped her nose. "_Lemonade stands everywhere, crackerjack bands fill the air. And there you are, happy landing on a chocolate bar_."

"Oh my God, when you two have a spawn, it will be Shirley Temple." Santana stated, sounding slightly horrified.

Rachel narrowed her eyes in thought. Curly blonde hair. Sweets. _Adorable_. Singing, dancing, and acting as a child. It could work. She could see her tap-dancing through the room right now.

"Who's that?" Quinn whispered into Rachel's ear. "I've heard of her."

Oh God. Again. Rachel made a mental list of all the Shirley Temple movies she owned.

"I'll show you later, bear." She assured, kissing her cheek.

"Does she look like you?" Quinn asked. "Because I want a baby who looks like you."

Rachel hummed. Who wouldn't? Except Rachel wanted one that looked like Quinn. "Do they do cloning yet? Maybe we could do that?" she joked.

"Oh Jesus Christ." Santana muttered, grabbing Brittany's hand and walking into the kitchen. All of the animals except Charizard followed. He stretched out on his back with his legs in the air and breathed like a lawnmower.

"I don't think I want a clone." Quinn said with a smile.

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "Why not?"

"You're very high maintenance. And _weird_." Quinn responded seriously, shaking her head. "We'd have eccentric little duplicates of you running around and singing show tunes all day."

Rachel scoffed and slapped the thigh she was sitting on.

"And _mean_." Quinn added. "You're a mean weirdo."

She squeezed Rachel tighter as she said this. It was hard to take Quinn seriously when she had her nose pressed into Rachel's cheek and a hand stroking Rachel's hair.

"You said I was honey ten minutes ago." Rachel remarked, trying to hide her smile.

Quinn's lips quirked up. "Of course you are."

Rachel poked her in the ribs and chuckled. "I can't be all of those things."

"You can be anything you want." Quinn returned. "And I want our future baby to be everything you are."

And Rachel melted right into a puddle in Quinn's hand. She was like Silly Putty. She was the Play-Doh that Quinn could put through one of those plastic spaghetti-maker machines. Maybe a sloppy cake in an Easy-Bake Oven.

Quinn knew exactly what buttons to press. But she wasn't just playing. Rachel was aware of all the well-intentioned manipulation. The games Quinn played. They'd always end in laughter because Quinn was genuine. _All the time_.

All she was doing was finding sneaky ways to get Rachel to love on her without Rachel realizing what was happening.

And Rachel had absolutely no problem with that. If she was Play-Doh, Quinn was a teddy bear.

~oooooooooo~

There was something on Rachel's face. She was sure of it. She could feel it. But she was half-asleep, so her first thought was that it was a tarantula. Scorpion. Something evil slithering into her nose. Her eyes flew open and she exhaled sharply when she came face to face with a smiling, unblinking Quinn.

Quinn was just watching her. It was honey blonde hair that was tickling Rachel's face. Rachel sighed in relief and tried to blink the blurriness out of her eyes.

"_Finally_." Quinn murmured quietly, leaning down and kissing the corner of Rachel's mouth.

Rachel smiled blearily up at her. She reached an arm around Quinn's sleep-warm back and pulled her to lie down. Quinn groaned exaggeratedly and collapsed off of her elbows onto Rachel. She put her head on Rachel's chest to listen to her heart.

"You have to take San and Britt to the airport, little bear." Quinn said quietly, tracing the creases on Rachel's shirt.

Rachel put a hand on the blonde head. "What happened to your pajamas?" she asked sleepily, amused by Quinn's obvious nakedness and ignoring the statement that would force her out of bed. She was sure her wife had been clothed when they'd gone to bed last night.

Quinn hummed and pressed her lips to Rachel's chest. "I got hot."

Rachel patted her head. "So you got naked."

Made perfect sense. Rachel lolled her head to the side to see Quinn's pajamas balled up on the floor. She threw an arm over her eyes to block out the light and kept petting on Quinn's head.

"You have to get up." Quinn whispered, almost apologetically. But her eyes were closed and it didn't seem like she felt like moving off of Rachel any time soon.

Rachel sighed, but stayed put. She could cut out her morning shower and still get her friends to the airport on time.

"Do you want me to go?" Quinn asked, sliding a warm hand under Rachel's shirt and rubbing her belly.

"Mm. I got it bear." Rachel replied thickly. She might have to cut out a stop at the coffee shop, where she was now allowed decaf, and just skip breakfast all together, but she would be punctual. She was Rachel fucking Berry.

And Quinn had work with a vet. Rachel vowed to make it out of bed soon.

Quinn's warm hand was sending shivers up her sides. She removed her arm from over her eyes and tickled the back of Quinn's neck.

"You know…you're perfect-sized." Quinn said, smiling into Rachel's chest.

Rachel chuckled lightly. "Yeah? Not too small?"

Quinn shook her head. "Perfect. I could-I could carry you around with me all day if I wanted. Stick you in my pocket and pull you out to show off."

"Well, you're perfect-sized too, bear." Rachel returned, running her fingers through Quinn's hair.

Quinn was quiet for a moment. Rachel moved her hand from Quinn's neck down to lightly tickle her back instead. "You don't think my head's too big?" Quinn asked quietly.

Rachel laughed abruptly, holding Quinn's head with one hand so that she didn't shake her off. Quinn huffed and lightly slapped Rachel's breast. Because it was the only thing in her line of sight.

"I'm serious." Quinn stated, watching the breast bounce around and struggling to keep a straight face.

Rachel grinned and tugged on her hair. "If your head looks big, it's because your hair is a mess."

"My hair isn't a mess during the day." Quinn said immediately, smiling brightly now because of her wonderful toy.

Rachel could argue that Quinn's hair was always a mess, but she chose not to. She smiled fondly at her wife's antics. "Your head is perfect-sized." She said definitively.

"Not like a watermelon?" Quinn checked, reaching her hand under Rachel's shirt and snaking it up until she could play with the breast directly.

Rachel shook her head. "Perfect. And gorgeous and fluffy and clever."

"Your head's better." Quinn chuckled.

A bizarre image came to Rachel's mind of Quinn's body with Rachel's head affixed to it. She obviously needed to purge that from her memory immediately. And then Quinn's body morphed to Rachel's body and Rachel was horrified by images of having a relationship with herself.

And then she was intrigued. If Rachel Berry and Rachel Berry had a baby, their baby would be perfect.

But not as perfect as Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry's together.

Jesus Christ. She needed to get out of bed.

"I think I like…your heart too." Quinn murmured, ear pressed to Rachel's chest.

Rachel smiled fondly at her. "Seriously? Just _like_?"

Quinn laughed and it rumbled in Rachel's chest. "_Yes_."

Rachel hummed. Whatever you say.

"You have-you have a very nice heartbeat." Quinn continued. "It sounds normal. Maybe a little fast right now."

Quinn twisted her neck and winked at Rachel.

Rachel nodded agreeably. "And you're not just comparing it to the animals you listen to at school?"

Sure, Quinn could say her heart rate was normal, but when normal was forty beats per minute for a horse, Rachel would probably be dying.

Quinn propped her chin on Rachel's chest and grinned toothily. "Nope. Sixty to eighty beats per minutes. No arrhythmia. Tachycardia. My perfect heart."

Rachel eyed Quinn's hair before she was transformed into Play-Doh again. "God. Your head is _huge_." She commented with a straight face. The hair doubled its size. Maybe tripled.

Quinn's smile dropped. "Stop it." She said, draping the rest of her body over Rachel and grabbing Rachel's cheeks. "Don't be mean."

Rachel feigned ignorance. "What? No, seriously Quinn, how did I never notice how massive your head is? It's like-it's like a planet." Rachel widened her eyes like she was in awe of this Jovian wonder.

Quinn puffed her cheeks out frowned even further, pinching Rachel's cheeks. "Stop it, little bear."

Rachel raised an eyebrow and reached up to pat some of Quinn's hair down. She really wasn't one to talk. Her own hair usually looked like a tumbleweed in the morning. A dark tumbleweed holding a nest of birds.

"Does it have its own gravitational field? Is that where you keep all your cookies?" Rachel asked, unable to hide her smile any longer.

She really needed to get out of the fucking bed.

Quinn growled and dove in to kiss Rachel's neck. She ran her hands up and tickled Rachel's sides until Rachel was laughing so hard that no sound was coming out. Or maybe she was crying. Quinn wasn't tickling lightly, as she usually did. She was in for the kill.

Spit was coming out of somebody's mouth, but Rachel chose to ignore that for the time being.

Quinn had Rachel's shirt halfway over her head when she finally stopped tickling. She tugged it the rest of the way off and looked down at Rachel with a flushed face and shiny eyes. "Yes, lovely little bear. I keep all my cookies in my hair."

Rachel was still shaking with laughter. Quinn snorted and Rachel flicked her in the nose. Then Quinn tore the blankets off of them and watched them flutter to the floor.

She traced her fingers along the hem of Rachel's sleep shorts as she caught her breath. "I _love_ your heart. I don't just like it. It's mine, so I love it."

Rachel nodded breathlessly. She knew that, of course.

Quinn did not look big-headed when she slipped her hand into Rachel's shorts. She looked sweet and flushed and happy as she watched Rachel's eyes flutter closed.

Rachel knew she would be breaking a few laws to get to the airport on time.

~oooooooooo~

Santana caught Rachel's arm right after they'd said their goodbyes, when she was turning away from the security line. Rachel spun around in surprise.

Forgotten boarding pass? Carry-on? Realization that the most important possession in her life had been left on the kitchen table at Rachel and Quinn's apartment?

Rachel raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"We won't see you for…who knows how long." Santana started, holding her gaze. "Which is kind of a blessing, but it'll be months at best."

Rachel just stared at her.

"So I told your little miss Sunny Delight to take care of you." Santana continued, rolling her eyes. "But Quinn's like a duckling getting blown over in the wind, so I'm telling you as well. Take care of each other. We're three thousand miles away, but Britt and I will still come over here and slap the snot out of you if either of you pull any shit while you're stranded out here."

Rachel's mouth dropped open.

"And I will force feed you raw coffee grinds if Quinn tells me you've been drinking it." Santana threatened, poking a finger into Rachel's chest.

Rachel grimaced at the idea.

Santana blinked and coughed like she hadn't meant to say any of that. It was just a tickle in her throat. Maybe some spit went down the wrong way.

Autocorrect.

Brittany came up and gave her a hug from behind, trying to tug her into the line.

"Did you wear your nice underwear for the x-ray machines, San?" she asked brightly.

Santana shut her eyes. Rachel smiled at her when they finally opened, and nodded her head slightly.

"I will." She said quietly. "And don't call my wife a duckling."

Even though the description was accurate. Rachel just didn't want any mental associations with Flappy, who was, unfortunately, still alive and kicking. And attacking and biting and terrorizing Santana and Lord Tubbington the Second.

Rachel returned home to find Quinn sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop and a bowl of untouched Froot Loops and marshmallows in front of her.

"Bear, what are you doing here?" Rachel asked, brushing off the dogs and shoving her way through them until she got to the table. She kissed Quinn's head and then sat next to her.

Quinn was supposed to be out with the vet she'd been shadowing for the summer. Rachel wasn't too worried, but Quinn did look a little unsettled.

"He, um, he called and said he was only doing a dental today so it wouldn't be worth driving all the way out there." Quinn explained.

She wrinkled her nose and scrunched up her face at something on the computer screen, making Rachel laugh. She stood up and moved behind her, draping her arms over her wife's shoulders. She rested her chin on Quinn's head.

Oh, dear God. Quinn was looking up sex toys.

Rachel laughed louder and squeezed her wife's shoulders. "Babe, what are you doing?"

It was very clear what she was doing.

Quinn tilted her head back to look up at her with confused, sweet hazel eyes. "I don't know." She whined pitifully.

"You don't know?" Rachel asked, amused. She looked back at the screen. "So that's not a purple strap-on that you're viewing?"

Quinn's eyes widened. She looked scandalized. She looked back to the screen, and then up at Rachel again. "I don't-I don't…" she shook her head wildly. "I don't know what-what any of it is."

Rachel smiled at her.

"It's very odd." Quinn continued, whispering now like she was conveying a secret. "I feel depraved. Like I've been corrupted."

Rachel snorted. "You haven't been corrupted, babe. By anyone but me. And I think of it as having _enlightened_ you, so…"

Rachel moved around the chair and plopped herself on Quinn's lap. She twisted and handed her wife her cereal to eat, and then took control of the computer. Quinn was munching away while Rachel checked the recently viewed items.

She nodded her head at most of it. Run-of-the-mill stuff. But Quinn was right; some of it was just _weird_. How did she even find these online? They seemed like they should be illegal. Quinn had probably stumbled her way into a damn black market sex shop.

Her little duckling.

"Were you…looking for anything specific?" Rachel asked with a smile, scrolling through the categories.

"Arghgs." Quinn said around a mouthful of Froot Loops.

Rachel twisted around and raised an eyebrow.

Quinn swallowed. "Toys." She repeated quietly.

"Well…" Rachel said slowly. "I could take you to Toys 'R' Us, but-"

Quinn shook her head, tilting her bowl so the milk was dangerously close to spilling out. "Bedroom toys." She elaborated. Barely. "And I'll dump this down your back if you make me explain further, little bear."

Rachel nodded knowingly. Quinn couldn't narrow it down much further. She was probably looking for something colorful and fun. Hence the purple strap-on. Quinn finished her cereal and started slurping the milk out of the bowl.

She coughed a little and tugged on Rachel's hair. Rachel twisted to find that it had been dipped in milk.

"Ewwwghgh, Quinn…" she complained, even while Quinn dried it with her pajama top.

"Milk hardens when it gets in your hair." Rachel scolded. "Remember when you dumped a bowl on Butter? She had an exoskeleton for a week."

Because she'd rip the eyes out of anybody who tried to bathe her.

Quinn pouted and put her bowl on the table. "I'll help you wash your hair." She muttered.

Rachel's frown vanished and she snorted. "Seriously? You're just trying to get me naked."

Quinn's lips quirked up. Rachel already felt like a rotting mess since she'd skipped her shower that morning. And brushing her teeth, and doing her hair, and putting on matching clothes. The only reason she hadn't been recognized at the airport was because she looked like a hobo.

"Pick one." Rachel said suddenly, gesturing to the items on screen.

Quinn's eyes flickered over and scanned them. She wrapped her arms around Rachel's waist and bounced her up and down like a horse. "I don't-I literally have nothing to go off of for this…decision." She admitted.

Rachel patted the hands on her stomach. "If we don't like it, we'll…"

She was going to say "send it back," but that was a little horrifying.

"Get something else." She said instead.

Quinn nodded slowly. "I liked…"

Rachel turned around when she trailed off. She was flushed red, cheeks puffed out.

"What did you like?" Rachel coaxed.

Quinn pointed at one of the categories on the screen. Rachel clicked on it, and then turned back to Quinn, who pointed at a sub-category.

Rachel grinned. "Do we not speak anymore?" she asked.

Quinn hummed. She pointed to the item she picked.

"No one else is here, bear." Rachel stated, smiling at the purple item that had been on the screen when she'd walked in. "You can say it."

Quinn tickled the small of Rachel's back lightly with her fingers.

"Are you sure?" Rachel twisted around and kissed Quinn's nose. "This is the one?"

Quinn nodded. "It's a nice color." She said sweetly, and then kissed Rachel's mouth. Rachel swiveled back to place the order.

Quinn started picking the dried milk out of her hair. "We should take you through the car wash." She said absently.

Rachel hummed and nodded. "The one with the green foam you like."

"It's on my bucket list." Quinn stated. She patted her hands up along Rachel's back like a drum.

Going through a car wash without a car would be terrifying for Rachel. Or _anybody_. She'd get sucked into the mechanism or something. Scrubbed and rolled to death. Just to get a little milk out of her hair. But she'd never rule anything out.

"And I can stick my head out the window?" Rachel suggested easily.

Quinn chuckled and nodded.

"And get decapitated?" Rachel continued. She'd seen the Final Destination where the girl almost lost her head to the sunroof while trying to climb out of a car that was rapidly filling with water. That girl had died at the end up the movie.

It was probably not how real life went, though.

"No. Not decapitated." Quinn said, shaking her head. Rachel could feel blonde hair flicking the back of her neck. "You'll smell wonderful. Like green soap."

Rachel filled in her credit card details and tried to concentrate on what Quinn was saying. Quinn was still tugging on her hair, so _obviously_ the milk wasn't coming out.

Quinn dropped her voice. "Did you get it?" she leaned forward, head only high enough so that her eyes could peer over Rachel's shoulder.

"Almost." Rachel answered, filling in the shipping address.

"This will be brilliant." Quinn commented.

Quinn could be talking about sticking Rachel's head out of a vehicle in the car wash or buying a sexual toy online. Or absolutely anything else. Buying some more fish for their tank. Teaching Barnaby how to dance backwards. Making waffles for dinner.

Rachel waited.

"A month of summer left with nothing to do but you." Quinn explained.

Rachel nodded distractedly. And then she realized what Quinn said and laughed loudly. She elbowed Quinn in the stomach without removing her eyes from the screen. Quinn whined. She twisted her arm around Rachel's and pressed the space bar on the laptop like a cat. An annoying cat.

Rachel brushed her away and fixed her zip code. "I agree with you, bear." She said slowly, picking up Quinn's hand to kiss her wrist.

Quinn pressed her lips to the back of Rachel's neck and held them there.

Rachel could already feel herself being turned into spaghetti. She pressed "complete order" just as Quinn ran a hand up the back of her shirt, scratching with her nails. Rachel tilted back into her. She could see Quinn's smile.

"Let me wash the milk out of your hair." Quinn whispered, eyes sparkling.

The hair on Rachel's neck stood up and goosebumps ran down her arms. She turned her head and pushed her nose into Quinn's cheek. She was Play-Doh, and she was proud.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: For those wondering, babies are about fifteen chapters away. Minimum. I'm on chapter thirteen now, and they'll be going back to New York in sixteen. But I'm so excited to write about babies!

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 6: You Hold the Other Line**

Rachel shut her eyes and breathed deeply and tried not to spin away into space. Never to be seen again. She clutched the Dalmatian pillow in one hand and Quinn's forearm with the other and wondered why in the world they had never tried this before.

When she opened her eyes, Quinn was still there. Still rocking forward and back, flushed and staring at Rachel with awe and delight and wonder.

They'd gotten the box in the mail yesterday. But Quinn had requested an "acclimatization period" of twenty-four hours. Sitting in the same room as the purple toy. Getting used to the idea. Observation from afar.

Rachel hadn't protested. It all seemed surreal anyway.

She wasn't completely sure where she was at the moment. Everything was blurry and blonde and warm. It really was one of the greatest ideas Quinn had ever had.

Rachel opened her mouth and garbled out something unintelligible when Quinn picked up her pace. Quinn was on her elbows, mouth hovering right above Rachel's nose.

"You-you have gunk in your eye, little-little…little-Rachel-bear." She panted.

There could be a tarantula in Rachel's eye and she wouldn't be aware of it at the moment. She wasn't too concerned.

It was a little off-putting to have Quinn saying "gunk" while they were doing what they were doing.

"Here, let-let me-" Quinn started.

Rachel shook her head vigorously and pressed her hips up and dug her nails into Quinn's forearm. The last thing she needed was her wife trying to get the gunk out of her eye during sex with a strap-on. _Somebody_ would lose an eyeball.

"Raaaaaachel." Quinn whined lowly. "Why didn't-why didn't we do this months ago?"

Rachel really tried to respond. She ended up just shaking her head and garbling out some more words. She had absolutely no idea. She tightened her legs around Quinn and pressed her heels into Quinn's back.

"Rachel." Quinn whispered breathlessly. It sounded urgent. Rachel met her dark eyes and held her gaze.

"Did you…did you know polar-oh _God_-polar bears can eat eighty-six penguins in-in a single sitting?"

Jesus Christ.

They could take out a whole colony. Flock. Herd. Swarm. Whatever the fuck penguins were. Rachel flashed back to a Monopoly game where Quinn had shared that lions can mate fifty times a day.

"They're insatiable." Quinn whispered.

Rachel was feeling lighter and lighter. Her toes were tingling. "You're in-insatiable." She stuttered out.

"Both of us." Quinn corrected. "Like I'm the bear. And…you're-you're the penguins. We should-we should go see some wild penguins-some-sometime."

_God_. It was weird. The juxtaposition was just insane. Quinn's eyes were wide and hopeful and _dark_. Rachel knew she wasn't a dirty-talker, but she sure as hell was doing something right. With her stories of arctic animals and their eating habits.

The bed was bouncing and Rachel's hips were lifted permanently off the mattress. She was vaguely aware that she was lying on top of some kind of animal. Hopefully stuffed. If not, traumatized.

She groaned as the tingling spread from her toes. Quinn leaned over and kissed her neck. She kept her lips there until they both saw stars. _Wave_ after _wave_. One of Rachel's hands dragged down Quinn's back and the other seized the Dalmatian pillow.

"Love you, love you, love you, love, love…" Quinn murmured into Rachel's neck before collapsing. She breathed for a moment and then blew a raspberry right where her lips had landed.

Rachel chuckled tiredly, too exhausted to brush her away. She found she was already locked in Quinn's octopus trap.

"Love you so much." Rachel breathed, tickling Quinn's back lightly.

Quinn laughed, face pressed into the pillow.

Rachel twisted and kissed her cheek. "Can you breathe, bear?"

"Barely." Was the muffled reply. Quinn turned her face and stared adoringly at Rachel. She brushed away dark hair from her eyes and palmed her flushed cheek. "I like this." She whispered.

And then she used her index finger to wipe the gunk out of Rachel's eye. It was charming. Lovely eye gunk.

"If I was a lion, I could mate forty-nine more times right now." Quinn commented, eyes shining.

Rachel snorted. She reached her hands up and fluffed out Quinn's hair. Quinn scrunched up her face and growled. She shook her head around and Rachel laughed and rolled her over, still caught in her trap.

"I think…you look like a lion now, Quinn." She said with a smile, dotting kisses over Quinn's cheeks.

For tonight. Quinn could be a lion.

~oooooooooo~

Time had never passed so quickly for Rachel. The rest of the summer skipped by in a blur of red trees and cloudy mornings and the golden hair of her wife. Rachel went back to work at the university, this time with a section of dance classes, and Quinn went back to school.

And then the leaves changed colors, and Quinn forced Rachel to make hand-turkey drawings and pumpkin pies, and Thanksgiving was upon them.

Rachel was lying on the couch with her feet in Quinn's lap watching the Macy's Day parade while the turkey and tofurkey roasted side by side in the oven.

Quinn wore a red sweater with a turkey on it and played with Rachel's toes.

"You'll be back there soon." She assured Rachel, squeezing her feet and nodding at the TV.

Rachel smiled at her. She must've been gazing a little too wistfully at her beloved New York on screen. The colors, the sounds, the people, the floats. She wanted to go back and just walk along Broadway for a day. Soak everything in. Get her fix. It was Rachel's crack.

But she could handle visits, as long as she had Quinn.

Who was tickling her feet in her turkey sweater and asking if the pumpkin pie was vegan.

It was. Rachel had made sure of that.

"And you could even be in the parade." Quinn added, tugging on the bottom of Rachel's fleece pants. "You could be Santa Claus."

Rachel laughed. There would be so many things wrong with that.

"Or an elf." Quinn said with a smirk. "You could be an elf and I'll be a reindeer, little bear."

Rachel shook her head. "I'm pretty sure the reindeer are animatronic."

If not, then cardboard. Plastic. Something inanimate. Rachel may be Jewish, but she'd been seven when she discovered that the parade reindeer weren't real, and it had taken a peach pie and five rounds of karaoke to cheer her up.

And then Santa Claus…Rachel still wasn't completely over it.

Quinn looked thoughtful. Her gaze flickered back to Rachel and her eyes were wide. Rachel was already running through places in her mind that might have real reindeer. She'd check the Sac Zoo. She sure as hell was not driving up to Canada or wherever the fuck real reindeer lived.

"We should go see some real ones for Christmas!" Quinn exclaimed. "Real reindeer! It'll be magical!"

Rachel smiled knowingly and nodded, nudging Quinn's stomach with her toes. She was ten steps ahead.

The turkeys were cooked by mid-afternoon and Quinn carved them up to serve. Rachel almost wished Puck had come out to California for the holiday since Quinn was dicing it up like Freddy Kruger, but they could make do. They'd have leftovers for _weeks_.

Quinn set eight bowls on the counter filled with various forms of kibble and sprinkled pieces of turkey over them while Rachel watched.

She eyed the rabbit bowl. Bunnies weren't carnivorous, right? They didn't hunt squirrels in packs and have mice for lunch or anything like that. Benjamin was probably capable of it, and Rachel wouldn't be surprised if he'd killed something in his lifetime, but rabbits in general were not carnivores. But that didn't mean they'd eat mountains of tofurkey instead.

"Quinn, you can't give Benjamin tofurkey just because he won't eat meat." Rachel stated wryly.

Quinn turned around and looked at her. "But…" she stared back at the bowl. "It's his-how will he know it's Thanksgiving?"

The giant hollow pumpkin he was given that morning might clue him in.

"Give him some carrots." Rachel suggested with a smile.

Quinn blinked. "He has carrots every day."

"And he likes them." Rachel stated, weaving through the animals to help Quinn put the bowls on the floor. "He doesn't need an eight course meal."

Quinn nodded resignedly. She removed the tofurkey from his bowl and dropped it in Jelly's. The animals had already finished by the time Rachel and Quinn started eating their own dinner. Quinn said a short prayer, filled Rachel's glass with wine, and then shoved a forkful of macaroni in her mouth before Rachel could stop her.

"_Quinn_!" she tapped her fork against the table urgently, trying not to laugh. "We have to say what we're thankful for first!"

Quinn swallowed hurriedly and coughed and wiped her mouth. "Sorry! Sorry, baby, I know." She said seriously.

Rachel shook her head and gestured at her wife to start.

Quinn cleared her throat. She smiled innocently at Rachel and reached across the table to take her hand. "This year, I'm thankful for you, most of all. Every single day, forever and always and after that. And Barnaby and Seal, the _dog_, not the stuffed animal, but I'm grateful for the stuffed animal Seal as well. Also, the seal named Dolphin… I'm just grateful for all seals."

Rachel chuckled at Quinn's clarification and waved for her to keep going.

"And then Cloud, Char, Jelly, Butter, George, and Benjamin Bunny. And also bears, lions, whales, and elephants, if I had to pick some animals. My education, your job. Our house and the flowers you planted…And your voice. And your face. And your arms and legs and feet and butt and-"

"Okay." Rachel interrupted, tapping her fork against the table again. Quinn rocked back in her seat and smiled at Rachel expectantly. She reached over and plucked the fork out of Rachel's hand, a move Rachel was very familiar with.

It removed the distraction. Quinn winked at her, looking very pleased with herself.

"I am thankful for you as well." Rachel proclaimed. She rolled her eyes like it was painful to say. Quinn stood up abruptly, banging her knee on the table and dangerously shaking everything on it, so that she could lean over and kiss Rachel. Rachel stood up as well so Quinn wouldn't pitch forward into the vegetables.

She let Quinn kiss her even though she tasted like mac 'n cheese.

"I'm thankful that Cornelius hasn't eaten the flowers I've planted, and I'm thankful for our jobs and friends…And for the fact that you didn't hurt yourself when you slipped this morning because you were dancing in the shower." Rachel listed with a smile.

Quinn flushed. Rachel had been in the shower as well, totally unable to stop her wife from pulling the whole curtain down. She was too busy dancing.

"And I'm thankful that you're naked at every opportunity." Rachel tacked onto the end. She reached over and stole the fork off Quinn's plate and started serving herself food.

"Amen!" Quinn said with a laugh, digging into the mountain on her plate.

After about twenty minutes, her pace had slowed down considerably. She was on her third helping of turkey, and about her ninth roll, and it was all being gradually funneled in to her mouth.

Rachel watched, sort of awed, sort of horrified. And then she stopped watching because she needed to focus on herself and her awful decision-making. She was trying to force her last few bites of tofurkey and stuffing down her throat without vomiting all over the table.

"Roghh ighg wagghna ight at boogh." Quinn spoke through her mouthful.

Rachel stared at her. She was seeing double. Or triple. But that was probably better than none at all, right? Or whatever Quinn was trying to do. She tried to focus while Quinn choked on her food. Rachel held her glass of milk up for her when it devolved into a coughing fit.

"Sip." She instructed hoarsely, holding a hand over her own mouth.

Quinn complied, dribbling it down her chin. She set it back down and took a few breaths. Probably to clear the gravy from her lungs.

"I wanna write that book." Quinn stated, watching Rachel. "The one you suggested a few years ago? I don't know what it would be about, but…I could start-I could start getting ideas, you know?"

Rachel nodded immediately. It took her a second to speak because of the massively overfilled stomach issue. "You could write it about me!" she suggested jokingly. "Dedicate a chapter to your early life, and then do ninety chapters about me and Broadway!"

Quinn laughed. She snorted halfway through, which made Rachel laugh, and _hurt_. So much. She had to stop. Quinn tapped Rachel's feet under the table until Rachel indulged her in a game of footsie.

"I don't-I don't think it would be autobiographical." Quinn said. "I mean, I could base it on us, but change the names and add some things, delete some things."

"Like Cornelius." Rachel nodded sagely.

Quinn chuckled and shook her head, peeling apart yet another bread roll. "No. He's one of the things I could multiply. I'll put twenty of him in the book."

Oh Lord.

"Whatever you do will be wonderful, baby." Rachel assured. Something shifted inside of her and she let out a groan. Her organs were displacing themselves to make room for her stomach.

"Should we lie down?" Quinn suggested, finishing off her roll and her milk, one after the other.

Rachel nodded silently, but didn't get up. So many things could go wrong if she altered her center of gravity. Quinn hurried around the table and kneeled down in front of Rachel, presenting her back for Rachel to climb onto.

"I'll carry you." She stated, even though she was moving slower than usual as well.

But, no way. Definitely not. There was no way that Rachel was intentionally pressing her stomach up against anything right now. She tapped Quinn's shoulders until she turned around.

"Can we do bridal style, bear?" she asked in a whine, probably exaggerating it a bit. She could actually walk. But the couch was very far away.

"Of course." Quinn agreed, scooping Rachel up and kissing her flushed cheek. "And if you throw up on me, I'll put that in my book too."

Rachel wrapped her arm around Quinn's neck and whined into her shoulder. She predicted that Quinn's book would need some kind of warning in the first few pages. A disclaimer. Especially if it contained twenty Corneliuses and all of Rachel's antics. Even under different names, they could only be written or performed by a crazy person.

~oooooooooo~

Rachel stumbled exhaustedly through the door the Monday of the next week and collapsed on the couch. She'd _never_ thought she'd be so tired from dancing. She was a star! But really, eight hours straight on six hours of sleep. On top of some kind of food hangover from Thanksgiving.

Rachel was like death on legs. She was seriously getting soft. Broadway would not tolerate this. She was hungry and thirsty and she needed a shower, but she fell asleep as soon as her face hit the pillow on the couch.

The pillow might've been a cat, because it moved, but Rachel was too tired to care.

She woke up to someone coughing. Or hacking. Maybe a blender. Or the waste disposal in the sink. Hadn't Quinn broken that trying to fix the plug to give Jelly a bath? It took Rachel a while to process that it was an animal, and it was either vomiting or choking.

She sort of hoped it was choking because that would require less clean-up.

Rachel lifted her head off the couch, temporarily blinding herself. Her head was throbbing. Ready to crack at the temple. She squinted her eyes open and looked to the kitchen to find Cornelius wandering in a circle, head close to the ground, mouth wide open and hacking every few seconds.

"Shit." Rachel murmured.

Why was she always the one around when their animals were in danger? Or _dying_. Quinn would be suspicious soon.

Rachel tumbled herself off the couch and staggered blearily over to the kitchen. Her head cleared a little bit once she caught on to how serious the situation was.

Cornelius was drooling wildly. He was dripping in the circles he was walking and occasionally pawing at his face, nose to the ground. But the hacking was the worst. It sounded terrible. Rachel winced every time he did it.

She panicked for a minute because she didn't know the Heimlich or how to perform a spontaneous tracheotomy on a dog. Did they even do those for dogs? Did they even do those for _humans_ outside of _House_?

All she knew about a tracheotomy was that it involved stabbing a pen into something's throat. It probably wasn't advisable to try that at home.

Rachel slipped on her shoes, grabbed her keys, flung her purse over her shoulder, and scooped Cornelius up under his legs.

It had finally happened. Rachel could see the mess of garbage on the other side of the kitchen as she hurried in the opposite direction. Cornelius was finally being punished for eating something that he wasn't supposed to. And Rachel Berry was the one forced to fucking ambulance him to the vet.

"Fucking Cornelius." She muttered, all the way down the stairs and out to the small parking lot. She deposited him gently in her passenger seat. She did not have time to worry about doggy airbag regulations right now. And she didn't know where her special doggy seatbelt was.

Rachel sped for about two miles before she had to stop at a red light.

Cornelius started wheezing and puffing out of his nose, and Rachel's heart hammered in her chest. She leaned over and kissed his fluffy black and white head. His eyes looked a little desperate. It was hard to look directly at them.

"Hold on, baby boy." She soothed quietly. She took off with a screech when the signal finally turned green.

She realized she would probably look like some kind of crackhead hobo breaking the law with a dog in dire straits if she was pulled over right now. She was just a mess. But she wouldn't slow down because she couldn't take Quinn's face if Seal died choking on whatever shit he'd gotten hold of this time.

Rachel reached the vet's office and parked sideways, rushing around to the other door to get Cornelius. She crossed the parking lot and pushed backwards through the office door with the dog in her arms. She ignored everybody else and rushed up to the receptionist, who stood up as soon as she caught sight of Cornelius.

"He's-he's choking." Rachel stuttered out, feeling like she was choking herself. Like it was contagious. She needed somebody to stab her with a pen. The woman was already ushering her to take the dog back into one of the exam rooms.

"Doctor! We've got a dog, something lodged in his throat." Rachel heard someone call from out in the hall. She deposited Cornelius on the table and kissed his head again, and then stepped back when the vet swept into the room.

He gave Rachel a glance and a smile and strode swiftly up to Cornelius's head.

"Three years old, border collie, no allergies." A tech informed, following the doctor and holding some tools. Cornelius flailed around on the table as his panic grew. Rachel pressed her hands to her temples to keep her head from exploding.

"Nope, can't see it. Those won't work." The vet said, gesturing at the tray of tools the tech was holding. He pulled Cornelius unceremoniously onto the floor and then kneeled behind him. He put both hands on the dog's chest and then pushed inwards, towards Cornelius's head.

After two thrusts he nodded at a tech. "See it yet?" he asked urgently.

She opened Cornelius's mouth and looked inside, and then shook her head. The doctor kept thrusting. Rachel leaned back against the wall, trying to stay out of their way. Cornelius was becoming alarmingly still. Rachel was feeling alarmingly sick.

She pulled out her phone and exited the room, dialing Quinn's number. She still had half an hour of class, so Rachel wasn't surprised when there was no answer. Quinn texted her a few seconds later instead.

**Quinn**: **Hey, little bear. I'm in class. Everything okay? XO**

Rachel shook her head to herself.

"It's coming up, it's coming up." A tech said loudly inside the room.

Something was definitely coming up inside of Rachel.

"He's not breathing." Another one yelled out.

Rachel typed out a response and inhaled deeply.

**Rachel: At the vet. Seal's choking. Don't know.**

Rachel's phone rang about twenty seconds later, and she answered it immediately, leaning anxiously in the doorway and watching the vet extract some kind of bone from her dog's throat. He was completely still.

"Rachel." Quinn said worriedly. She sounded breathless. Maybe on the verge of tears. Maybe just hurrying to her car. "What's-is-what's-"

"Hey. Hey." Rachel cut her off sharply, pushing off the wall. "Quinn, you listen to me okay. Do not get in that car yet."

The last thing she needed was for her wife to crash on the way to the vet.

"Recite one of your lists, okay baby? Focus. Do dog breeds, okay? Are you listening?" Rachel asked, talking faster and faster.

Quinn whined on the other end of the line, but she hummed affirmatively.

"Alright, bear, list a few for me, but then I'm going to hang up because it's chaos in here." Rachel instructed, voice softening. "But don't you dare start driving until you hit thirty. If you have a panic attack, pull over."

Quinn made another unintelligible noise and took a deep breath. "Okay, okay…hm."

Rachel's eyes stayed locked on the vet trying to resuscitate her dog while Quinn got her head together.

"Okay, uh, Airedale, Akita, Australian Shepherd…um, Bassett Hound, Beagle-"

Rachel nodded along. "Okay, good, good... Baby, I have to hang up. You keep doing that. You're okay, bear. Just take deep breaths and focus, and I'm waiting for you. Love you."

"So much." Quinn breathed out.

Rachel hung up and moved right across the hall into the bathroom, dropping onto her knees to throw up. Was her head actually splitting open? It must be. There was no other explanation. She grasped the toilet and emptied her stomach, but she didn't linger on the floor.

She was Rachel Berry and it was a fucking public restroom. She stood up, swaying a little, and washed her mouth out before returning to the exam room, cheeks burning.

Cornelius's chest was rising and falling, and the vet was leaning over him checking his vitals. He looked up when Rachel sort of collapsed into the doorway in relief, and he gave her a half-smile.

"Close call." He remarked. "We should be good now, though. We'll keep him here for a couple hours, if that's okay. He's breathing on his own and his vitals are fine. Just exhausted."

Rachel stepped forward and gently ran her fingers along Cornelius's fluffy back. Then she tugged on his ears and knelt down so she was level with his half-lidded eyes.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again, little Seal. Okay?" she whispered. "You're gonna be alright, bub. Your best bud's gonna be here soon." She tapped his nose and straightened back up.

Rachel shuffled back out to the waiting room, feeling even more like death than before, and collapsed into one of the uncomfortable chairs. She was pulling out her phone again when Quinn burst through the door, wild-eyed and messy-haired.

Her eyes landed immediately on Rachel and she dropped to sit on the edge of the chair next to her wife. Quinn leaned over the arm rests and gave Rachel a hug. She pulled back quickly and searched Rachel's eyes anxiously.

"He's fine." Rachel exhaled tiredly. "He got a bone out of the trash. They got it out and he's breathing fine now."

Rachel chose to leave out the fact that he had stopped breathing at one point. That would just upset Quinn further. And make Rachel vomit.

Quinn nodded, breathing deeply in relief. She settled back into her chair and then studied Rachel for a moment.

"You look like you need another hug, little bear." She remarked softly.

Rachel didn't know what the fuck she needed. Sleep, most likely. She sighed and closed her eyes. They fluttered open when she felt Quinn's cool palm on her face.

"Did you get sick?" Quinn asked quietly. "Do you have a headache?"

Rachel nodded slowly. She turned her dull eyes toward her wife. "Quinn, I can't-these-Cornelius-" she stuttered, and then sighed in frustration and pressed her hands into her eyes.

It kind of made everything worse. She saw spots.

"Rachel, maybe we could-"

"No." Rachel interjected. She didn't know what Quinn was going to say, but she had some misdirected, irrational anger to vent, and Quinn was just _right there_. "Our animals are fucking crazy."

Quinn flinched slightly, but Rachel plowed on.

"They destroy _everything_. Curtains, air fresheners, remote controls." Rachel stated, waving a hand around for emphasis. She laughed humorlessly. "They eat everything, they sleep everywhere, and, aaaggghgh-"

Rachel made a strangled noise of frustration. "They rip open garbage bags and drag it all over the god damn kitchen until they choke." She ended in a higher pitch than she'd started because she seemed to be losing a little bit of control.

There were actually tears in her eyes.

"Rachel." Quinn whispered, reaching for her hand.

Rachel let her have it. She clenched her jaw and shut her eyes and willed her head to stop pounding. "We should send them all away. To a huge farm in the country where they can fuck up to their heart's desire."

Hello, stream-of-consciousness. What filter? Rachel wasn't completely sure what she was saying at the moment.

"You don't mean that." Quinn stated quietly, squeezing Rachel's hand and moving dark hair out of her face.

Of course Rachel didn't mean that.

"Yes, I do." Rachel countered stubbornly.

"Well, if…" Quinn's voice wavered slightly. "If that's what you want, then…"

Rachel opened her eyes when Quinn trailed off to see tears shining in her wife's eyes. She was nodding. She'd give up the animals. Rachel sighed.

"Of course that's not what I want." She whispered. "Don't listen to me right now. I'm being an idiot."

"You don't feel well." Quinn defended for her.

Rachel shrugged.

"Everybody gets to be a brat when they throw up." Quinn added, squeezing Rachel's hand. Rachel's lips quirked up. She closed her eyes again and Quinn pulled her into her shoulder to rest.

~ooooooooo~

Rachel didn't know how in the world it happened, but when she woke up, she was in bed. Her lovely warm, soft bed. And it was dark. And Quinn was humming quietly next to her reading a textbook with a book light. The pounding in her head had faded to a faint ache, and a few of her memories were returning to her.

Quinn walking Cornelius out of the vet's office, and then coming back to give Rachel a piggyback to the car. Being carried up the apartment stairs. Having her shoes and pants and shirt tugged off gently and being kissed goodnight on both cheeks.

Rachel released a sleepy sigh and scooted closer to Quinn, snuggling into her side. Quinn looked down at her with concern.

"How do you feel, little bear?" she asked.

Rachel breathed contentedly. "Much better." She murmured.

Quinn ran her fingers through dark, tangled hair, illuminated only by the small book light. "Yeah? Can I get you anything?"

Rachel shook her head sleepily. "Just a weird, bad day. I'm alright, baby."

Quinn hummed. She turned off her light and put the textbook on the side table before scooting down the bed to wrap Rachel up in her arms. "If you're sure." She whispered.

Rachel made a tired, affirmative noise. She could feel Cornelius at the foot of the bed. He wasn't trying to maul her face, so he must be really tired.

"I know…you said that you didn't mean it, but if the animals are too stressful-"

Rachel groaned, shaking her head into Quinn's shoulder. "No, baby. No. I meant none of that. I love every single one of them." She said honestly. "I would never want to give them away. It's just…Cornelius sometimes, you know?"

And all the rest.

Quinn chuckled lightly. "I know you'd tell me if that changed though…If anything changed, and you did get…tired of them. Because you're more important." She reminded, kissing Rachel's head. "Also, it's your birthday in a few weeks, so…"

So Rachel had the right to get rid of as many animals as she wanted. Good to know.

"Quinn, those animals are going to drive us crazy for the rest of their lives. They're not going anywhere." Rachel assured.

For all her fussing about their fucking animals, she wouldn't be able to bear letting any of them go. She'd be more of a wreck than she was earlier today.

"I could put this whole day in my book." Quinn remarked softly. She slipped a leg between Rachel's and locked her into the octopus trap for the night.

"We are never speaking of this day again." Rachel mumbled. She pressed her lips to Quinn's chest and whispered. "Tell me a bedtime story."

Quinn opened her mouth and Rachel cut her off.

"A made-up one. No Goldilocks or Mother Goose or Red-Riding Hood." Rachel slurred insistently. She needed something original to distract her. Whatever Quinn made up would be wonderful. And happy and calm.

Quinn hummed. She was silent for a moment, staring into the darkness and tracing her fingers through Rachel's hair. And then she gave Rachel a squeeze and cleared her throat.

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl. The most beautiful, talented, loveliest girl in all of the land. And her name was…Quinn."

Rachel snorted and thumped Quinn's chest.

Quinn chuckled into her hair. "No. Her name was Rachel. And all of the peasants and the king and all his men and Humpty-Dumpty came to see her sing every night."

Rachel shook with silent laughter. Her headache was completely gone.

"And then one day, lovely Rachel met a farmer. A brilliant farmer named Quinn."

Rachel hummed. "With hair like sunshine and an even brighter smile." She added.

Quinn nodded lightly, chin bumping Rachel's head. "And the farmer had lots and lots of animals. She had a herd of horses, and some black and white cows, and lots and lots of sheep. She had sheepdogs and barn cats, and maybe a few chickens because they provided her with eggs. She also had a pen full of bears and a stegosaurus-"

"Quinn." Rachel interrupted sleepily, knowing she could carry that on for ages.

"Rachel." Quinn said in exactly the same tone. "This is a bedtime story. The farmer can have a dinosaur if she wants one."

Rachel chuckled. "_You_ just want a dinosaur."

"_Anyway_," Quinn continued, "the lovely Rachel settled down with Quinn on her farm. She stopped performing for all the king's men and Humpty-Dumpty, and they missed her. They missed her so much because there was nobody else in the kingdom who could sing as sweetly as she could. Except Lord Pooh Bear."

Rachel pressed her face further into Quinn's shoulder to muffle her laughter. She was supposed to be falling asleep. Not laughing all night long. But it felt so good.

"And then one day, the farmer rounded up all her animals and climbed onto the stegosaurus with lovely Rachel to move back to the kingdom." Quinn continued quietly. "Back to Rachel's kingdom. And farmer Quinn took care of all of all of the king's horses, and she put Humpty-Dumpty back together again. And lovely Rachel started singing with Lord Pooh Bear."

Rachel wanted Quinn to turn this into a movie. She'd love to see how it played out on screen.

"And farmer Quinn went to every show that lovely Rachel put on. She loved her the most and she clapped the loudest. And Lord Pooh Bear came home to live with them one day, and they all lived happily ever after with their stegosaurus." Quinn finished. She kissed Rachel's head again and chuckled in her ear.

"Thank you." Rachel mumbled.

"You're lovely Rachel." Quinn clarified softly. "And your kingdom awaits."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I did not mean to start two chapters in a row like this. I don't know how it happened. But it's finals week, so I just rolled with it.

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 7: I've Got a Gift and It Blew Me Away**

Rachel woke up on the morning of her birthday to find Quinn's blonde head buried between her legs. She groaned loudly and arched her back, automatically twisting her hands into the mess of hair. Quinn chuckled, but she didn't move, and the vibrations just made everything better. She had a hot cheek pressed against Rachel's thigh and her fingers pressed lightly into Rachel's hips, holding her in place.

What a marvelous morning. Birds were chirping outside. Sun was streaming in through the window. It was like a scene from _Mary Poppins_.

"Oh my- Quuuiinnnnn!" Rachel cried out when Quinn chuckled lowly. "God-right…there, baby."

Quinn hummed in acknowledgement, tickling Rachel's hips. Rachel kicked the blanket off just to be sure she wasn't actually _on fire_. She struggled to move her hips with Quinn holding her down.

"You're so beautiful." Quinn commented, sticking her head up with a sloppy, adoring smile before dropping back down.

Rachel tried to formulate words, but they just came out as a garbled roar. She tugged on Quinn's hair to get her to hurry up. Quinn whined, pinching the skin on Rachel's hip.

"Oh, fuuuu-" Rachel cried breathlessly. That was kind of pleasant. It sent a shock right through her body. Quinn added fingers to the mix and the fleeting thought crossed Rachel's mind that this was the best birthday ever.

"Al-almost, baby." Rachel keened as Quinn picked up her pace.

With a few more thrusts, Rachel saw stars. She saw stars and birds and hippopotamuses and Mary Poppins. She tightened her hold on Quinn's hair and clenched her eyes closed, shuddering while Quinn slowed down. When she finally relaxed, she might've passed out. There was no way to be sure. Days could've gone by and Rachel would be none the wiser.

Rachel opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling trying to catch her breath. Quinn sat up and climbed up Rachel's body to lie on top of her. Rachel grunted lightly at the weight, and Quinn grinned down at her wife, obviously very pleased with what she'd just done.

Rachel tried to smile, but none of her muscles were working. Quinn leaned down and kissed her mouth. "Happy birthday, baby." She said sweetly, inches from Rachel's lips, hazel eyes dark and shining.

Rachel pursed her lips like she wanted another kiss. Quinn obliged, planting her elbows either side of Rachel's head to do it properly. Rachel chuckled when Quinn nipped her lower lip, and then ran her tongue along it to sooth it.

Quinn's breath was hot on her face. They were both radiating heat. Very intensely, like the sun. Or an explosion of the sun. A supernova. Quinn sat up abruptly, eyes widening as she rubbed herself against Rachel's stomach.

Rachel giggled because she was a little out of her mind.

"We can-we can finish this in a minute." Quinn stuttered, sliding off of Rachel and to the floor very unsteadily. "I have something for you."

Rachel whined. She wanted to finish this _now_. Quinn smiled brightly and took a few stumbly steps away. Rachel made a half-hearted lunge to smack her thigh, but only managed to graze it with her fingertips.

Quinn spun around and pointed at her. "Stay there." She demanded with a laugh.

Rachel winked sloppily.

So she blinked. Because ten years ago she had deluded herself into believing that she had the ability to wink properly.

Rachel didn't even have the capacity to leave this bed right now. She just watched delightedly as Quinn's naked body scampered out of the room. And then Rachel fixed her eyes on the fan overhead with a contented smile and tried to count how many times it spun around before Quinn returned.

"Quiinnnnn." Rachel called impatiently when she inexplicably reached fifty rotations in five seconds. Was it a jet propeller on their ceiling? That was impossible. Rachel was just making herself dizzy.

She smiled when she heard her wife come thundering back through the hall and into the bedroom. Quinn didn't even slow down when she pounced on the bed, keeping the plate in her hand completely steady and flat. She didn't land lightly, like a cat. She caught a shin on the edge of the bed and tumbled heavily onto Rachel's legs.

Like a puppy trying to climb up the stairs.

Rachel laughed loudly when Quinn blew a raspberry right on her stomach, and then complied when Quinn tugged at her arms to get her to sit up.

"I made you this." Quinn stated with a coy smile, holding out the plate.

Rachel took it, watching her wife suspiciously. She gasped when she saw the giant cookie Quinn had concocted. It was sugar, about twice the size of her face, and covered in frosting that said "Happy Berry-day" followed by a picture of a little bear. Or a glob of icing that Rachel just assumed was a bear.

_Berry-day_. Rachel was charmed.

"Awwww." She drawled out, smiling impossibly brightly at Quinn's red cheeks. "_Quinn_!"

"You like it?" Quinn guessed, tapping her fingers along Rachel's thigh enthusiastically.

Rachel didn't need to answer. It was a _giant cookie_. It would be blasphemous in this house to say that she didn't like it. She scooped up some icing with her finger and tried it, groaning at the taste. Definitely homemade. Quinn had probably added twice the necessary amount of sugar. Rachel smudged some of it on her nose and grinned expectantly.

"What _else_ have you got for me today, lovely bear?" Rachel asked, reaching up to tug on Quinn's unruly blonde hair.

Quinn straightened up, clearing her throat when Rachel's gaze drifted to her breasts. It was natural. Rachel literally could not control it. She raised an eyebrow. Quinn raised both of her eyebrows and stared pointedly at Rachel's chest.

Rachel laughed, poking Quinn in the stomach. "Hurry up." She instructed.

Quinn cleared her throat again. Rachel tried to ignore her glorious sex hair and the icing on her nose.

"_Today__…_ I'm running…your…own…personal…" Quinn dragged out the sentence until Rachel slapped her thigh. "Spa!" Quinn proclaimed, grabbing Rachel's hand and giving it a kiss.

She pressed it to her face and held it there while Rachel processed the information.

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked with an excited smile. She wasn't clear on the details, but anything with the word "spa" in it had to be good. Unless it was, like, _building_ one. Drowning in one. Quinn played with Rachel's hand, bending each finger individually.

"Well…first comes a bath in the giant tub with lots of bubbles and candles and this monster cookie and whatever else you want." Quinn described. She shook her head around suddenly. "And me!" she added hurriedly, bouncing a little on the mattress. "I have to be in there too."

Rachel nodded. Of course.

"And then…I'm going to lie you down on this bed and give you the best massage of your life." Quinn continued, stroking Rachel's hand. Her eyes twinkled. "I know a lot of methods. Like the baseballs-pounding-into-your-back method, or the karate chops, and the one where it feels like bullets in your shoulders…But I'll do it the way I know you like best."

Again, Rachel nodded. A little warily this time.

Quinn's eyes sparkled. "After that, we're going to have more of this cookie. We'll watch _Funny Girl_ and _Chitty Chitty Bang Bang_ and sing along to all the songs while we paint things on our nails. Like whales and hearts. And then we're-can-a place-we're-"

Rachel grabbed Quinn's knees and rocked her from side to side. "Slow down!" she laughed.

Quinn took a breath. "We're-we're going to bundle up and go out in the cold to a nice little restaurant with twinkly lights for dinner, and I'm going to give you your present, and keep you warm, and you're going to love me _so much_ by the end of today."

Quinn finished with a bright smile, fluttering her hands around and waiting expectantly.

Rachel narrowed her eyes playfully. "More than I love you now?"

Quinn tilted her head. "Pretty sure."

"Because…that's _a lot_." Rachel proclaimed, tickling behind Quinn's knees.

Quinn shrugged. "There's always more love to give. And I'll give all of mine to you."

Rachel studied Quinn for a moment, smiling when her wife started to squirm and bounce. Rachel laughed and climbed clumsily into Quinn's lap, careful to avoid the gigantic cookie. She vowed to have it eaten by the end of the day.

"But first, we finish what you started ten minutes ago." She stated, tapping her finger against Quinn's chest.

Quinn nodded wordlessly. She grinned and held her arms open, and Rachel tumbled backwards with her into the pillows.

~oooooooooo~

Rachel leaned back against Quinn in the tub. She watched contentedly as Quinn's feet played with the faucets before slipping abruptly back into the water with a splash, jerking them both forward. Rachel reached behind her head to tap Quinn's cheek.

"Hold still, bear. You'll drown us." She chided softly.

Quinn shifted side to side, making the water lap around the edges. Rachel reached into the depths and squeezed the thigh next to her own.

"Do you need your toy cars? Maybe a rubber ducky?" Rachel asked jokingly, lolling her head back onto Quinn's shoulder so she could see her eyes.

Quinn scoffed. "You're my rubber ducky."

She said it like it was so obvious. Rachel nodded sagely and kissed the droplets on Quinn's neck. Quinn squeezed her arms around Rachel's stomach tighter.

"You know, if we were in New York, I'd give you a _really_ special birthday." Quinn murmured, tapping her thumbs against Rachel's belly button. "I'd take you to a show, and we'd go ice skating, even though I was terrible last year and you had to hold me up. And then we'd sit and watch the lights on the Christmas tree at Rock Center. And we wouldn't even have to go near the zoo."

Rachel smiled. She was so relaxed she was about to go subsurface and drown, but she figured Quinn would rescue her. "This is perfect." She said simply.

Quinn sighed. Rachel felt the warm breath on her ear.

"And I love going to the zoo with you." Rachel added honestly.

She'd been so many fucking times it was like exposure therapy. There was no way _not _to enjoy it.

Quinn swayed her from side to side, creating little waves in the water again. "Of course you do." She stated. "I'm marvelous."

"But…you have a big head." Rachel drawled. Quinn bit her shoulder lightly, and then licked the water off, and Rachel giggled. She nudged Quinn's foot until it pressed against the edge of the tub, out of the water, and put her own next to it.

She appreciated the difference. Her foot was only slightly smaller, and it was darker than Quinn's. But Quinn had longer toes.

"You have kitten paws." Quinn commented, pointing unnecessarily down at their feet.

Rachel chose to take that as a compliment. She squeezed Quinn's foot between both of her own, winding their legs together.

"When do you think we'll go back?" she asked impulsively.

Not that she would have stopped herself. It was just a question Rachel fixated on quite a lot. That, and "what the fuck is wrong with my pets?"

"To New York?" Quinn checked, unwrapping her arms so that she could draw soap patterns on Rachel's shoulder. Rachel nodded. Quinn brushed her dark hair behind her ear and moved it off to the side.

"After I graduate." She answered easily, veering her fingers a little off course to tickle under Rachel's arm. "Why, baby?"

"What if you can get a job at the zoo in San Diego?" Rachel pressed. She slowly walked one of her hands along Quinn's right leg.

"They have bears in New York." Quinn said plainly. "I'll go play with those bears instead. And my own little bear."

Rachel chuckled. "What are you making?" she asked. It felt like Quinn was building a masterpiece of bubbles on her shoulder. She tried to twist her head around to see, but it just looked like a blob of soap.

"It's a horn." Quinn stated bluntly. "But all the bubbles are disappearing so it's wilting."

Rachel hummed, wholly unsurprised. "Why are you putting a horn on my shoulder?"

Quinn held her still. "Because the bubbles slid off when I tried to do a heart. So I'm doing a rhinoceros instead."

Well. It was understandable.

Rachel tilted her head back and pursed her lips for a kiss. She snorted when she saw that Quinn had given herself a bubble beard.

Quinn grinned, scrunching up her face as the soap went in her mouth. "Jealous?"

"Mmm." Rachel hummed, turning around in Quinn's arms so that she was kneeling in front of her. "Can I dunk you? Because I'm ready for my massage."

Quinn didn't need to be told twice. She stood up abruptly, grabbing the safety bar and slip-sliding her way over the edge of the tub. Rachel was just waiting for her to pull down the shower curtain. It had been a week since it last happened. Some kind of record.

Quinn held a hand out for Rachel, and then wrapped her in a fuzzy towel and lifted her off the ground with her arms around her waist. Rachel squealed happily, kicking her legs out when Quinn carried her back to the bedroom.

"Your feet shouldn't have to touch the floor today, Rachel. Your little kitten paws." Quinn explained laughingly. "If I could carry you around in a giant egg, I would."

Rachel did not doubt that. If there was any possibility of being carried around in a giant egg by _anybody_, Rachel would take it. She was flung onto the bed, only because she was squirming so much, and she landed on her stomach, towel completely undone.

She turned around to see Quinn climbing up behind her, wearing the remnants of a bubble beard. Quinn leaned over, wrapped in a shark towel, to kiss a line up Rachel's back before straddling her.

"Rub me, baby!" Rachel demanded with a laugh.

Her phone rang as soon as Quinn's fingers dug into Rachel's shoulders. They moaned simultaneously and Rachel dropped her face into the mattress.

"Ignore it." Quinn urged, flicking bubbles onto Rachel's back. Their bed would be soaked by the end of this escapade, but, really, who had extra time to _dry off_?

"It'll be my dad." Rachel said. She reached up and grabbed her phone from the nightstand, waving her hand for Quinn to keep up her ministrations.

"Can I moan and groan? Add in some '_harder'_s and '_faster_'s?" Quinn whispered. Rachel reached back and slapped her leg.

"Hi, daddy!" she greeted brightly, right as Quinn switched to the "karate method." Rachel twisted and jabbed her in the ribs, trying not to smile when she puffed out her cheeks.

"Hi, sweetheart!" Hiram answered. Rachel heard her dad in the background yelling something else. They were probably fighting over the cell phone right now because they had yet to figure out how their land line worked.

Like fathers, like daughter.

"We just wanted to wish you a happy birthday, baby girl." Hiram continued. "Make sure you're enjoying Quinn's plans for today."

Of course her fathers knew of the plans. Quinn was their favorite daughter. But she was also Rachel's favorite person, so that was okay. There was some kind of muffled scuffle on the other end of the line and Rachel waited patiently for it to be resolved.

Leroy's voice came through a moment later. "Rach? We're going to sing you happy birthday, okay?"

Rachel chuckled and rolled her eyes a little. "Okay."

She was slowly being turned into butter by Quinn's fabulous hands. Quinn released an exaggerated groan from her back, and Rachel was glad her dads were busy preparing for their song. She bucked her hips and delighted in Quinn's squeak. Quinn seized her shoulders to prevent herself from toppling over.

"Ohhhhhhhhh…" Leroy's voice led off the song in a baritone and Rachel smiled into the mattress. "_Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Rachel Barbra Berrrrrrrryyyyy…Happy birthday to you_!"

Rachel didn't say anything yet. She knew it wasn't over.

It was a good five seconds before Hiram finished the song. "_And many moooooooooorrrree_."

"That was very nice." Rachel complimented with a laugh. "Thank you."

"Of course!" Hiram enthused. "Our baby's twenty-seven!"

Rachel sighed contentedly as Quinn's fingers dug into the knots in her lower back. Guest teaching a section of dance classes gave her some kind of chiropractic issue. Or chasing pets around. Or chasing Quinn around. Quinn could be her doctor. She was fixing all of her problems.

Quinn leaned low over her back and whispered in Rachel's ear. "Do you want some cookie, little bear?"

Rachel laughed loudly because of how huskily it was whispered, and how euphemistic it sounded. But it was totally innocent, and she twisted around and tapped Quinn's oblivious smile and mouthed "in a second."

"So, Rach, don't forget our Skype schedule for the holidays." Leroy instructed seriously. "Because, you know, we'll be hanging out with your grandma and she turns into a little firecracker when she doesn't hear from the family's own Broadway star."

Rachel's grandma was always a firecracker. She turned into a full-blown explosion around the holidays. Maybe a bomb. Rachel didn't know how long she had left, but that woman would go out with a bang.

"And tell miss Quinn that we love her!" Hiram called. "She's probably sitting right next to you, right?"

Rachel smiled to herself. Quinn was on top of her, rubbing her down, and both of them were naked and soaking wet. Her fathers did not need that mental image. She hummed an affirmative.

"Miss Quinn's right here." She stated.

"Hi, dad and daddy!" Quinn yelled sweetly, pitching forward so her mouth was next to Rachel's ear. "I love you guys!"

Rachel winced at the volume. Quinn kissed the back of Rachel's head, which was still dry, and rubbed it with her own head to make it wet. Rachel squirmed away and relaxed again when Quinn kept up her massage.

"Is she taking care of you, sweetheart?" Hiram asked, smile in his voice.

Rachel nodded to herself. She was jelly in Quinn's hands. The blue kind, because that was Quinn's favorite. "She's making everything perfect." Rachel said quietly.

Quinn's hands stilled slightly, and Rachel felt a few kisses pressed to her shoulders, but then the massage picked back up. When she hung up, Quinn cut the section of her giant cookie with the little bear on it, and Rachel ate it while her wife loved on every inch of her body.

~oooooooooo~

The restaurant Quinn selected was called Jupiter's. She said it was exactly where a star should go on her birthday when she was absent from her own galaxy. Rachel wasn't completely confident in her knowledge of the solar system, or Quinn's for that matter, but it was a good idea. Bunch up the galaxy into a cozy, twinkly-lights café.

Rachel sat in her comfy seat, smiling quietly as Quinn completed their order and thanked the waiter. When Quinn looked back at her, Rachel folded her hands on the table and shot her a mischievous grin.

"So, where's my present?" she asked brightly.

Quinn raised an eyebrow and shook her head. "Patience, Rachel." She stated. Then her eyes drifted away, probably looking for straws. This place did not have straws. They were drinking wine.

Rachel had drank wine with a straw before, but she'd been performing an experiment to see if Puck was right when he said that using a straw would get a person drunk faster.

The experiment was inconclusive. Rachel had gotten drunk and lost her ability to think straight.

"Should I tell them it's your birthday?" Quinn asked, taking Rachel's hand across the table with a smile. "Maybe they'll come out dancing and singing with a crown for you to wear and a chocolate cake. And you could join them. Lead a rousing rendition of 'Don't Rain on My Parade.'"

Rachel hummed and nodded. This place didn't actually do things like that, so she felt safe. And she could confidently out-sing anybody in here. Or anybody in general. In fact, she might jump up on the table just to prove that.

"Or if they don't sing and dance, I'll get up on the table and do it for you." Quinn added, reading Rachel perfectly.

Rachel laughed and shook her head. "You know you wouldn't get up on this table, bear."

Quinn's eyes dropped to the painted stripes on Rachel's nails. They'd tried to do animals, but lacked the patience and talent, which is why Quinn's nails were decorated with blue polka dots that had previously been whales.

"For you, I will." Quinn said, looking back up with a small smile. "I-I might have a nervous breakdown later, but I'd do it."

"Well, I don't want _that_ to happen." Rachel proclaimed, shaking her ehad. She tapped Quinn's boots under the table and admired the flush on Quinn's cheeks. Maybe it was from the cold. Maybe it was from the thought of drawing loads of attention by tabletop dancing.

Rachel squeezed Quinn's fidgety fingers. She was probably thinking about being the center of attention. Shanghaied into singing publicly. Quinn reached across the table to wipe something off of Rachel's cheek.

"Frosting." She explained with a chuckle.

Three-quarters of the cookie was gone. They'd have the rest for dessert, and then bragging rights for a lifetime. Not that it was such a difficult feat to eat it in a day. Rachel was more proud of the fact that four years ago, she wouldn't have been able to handle more than a few bites. Quinn had given her a massive cookie tolerance, and Rachel was reaping the benefits.

If they could be called benefits.

Rachel was trying to trap Quinn's foot between her own when a shadow fell over the table. Or a presence that Rachel felt with her sixth sense. She looked up and smiled at the woman standing there in case she was a fan who wanted an autograph.

"Hi, Quinn!" The woman greeted, leaning a little obscenely over the table and skipping right over Rachel with her eyes. She was like an Amazon. Seven feet tall? Rachel contemplated as she watched her wife say hello to the woman with a stiff smile.

"Rachel, this is Kelly." Quinn explained, looking apologetic for the interruption. "We're-we go to-to school together."

Rachel nodded. She smiled reassuringly at Quinn and held out her hand to Kelly.

"Ohhh, so this is Rachel." Kelly stated, not entirely enthusiastically. Rachel fought the urge to roll her eyes. She stared at Kelly while she gripped her hand, maintaining eye contact.

"It's Rachel's birthday!" Quinn informed sweetly, smiling adoringly at her wife. Rachel's expression softened, and she took Quinn's hand back off the table and kissed it.

"Well, you caught my eye in those sparkly lights, Quinn, so I just wanted to come over and say hi." Kelly spoke again, gesturing to the twinkle lights outside the window.

Rachel likened the woman to a brontosaurus. Her neck was abnormally long, but she wasn't cute enough to be a giraffe. She probably wasn't cute enough to be a brontosaurus, but Rachel was no dinosaur expert.

Quinn said goodbye, eyes focused on Kelly's chin the whole time.

"Is she a friend, bear?" Rachel asked curiously when they were alone again.

Quinn met her eyes and shook her head. "No. She talks to me too much. It's annoying when people talk to me all the time."

Rachel laughed. "I talk to you all the time."

Quinn banged her knee on the table in her rush to sit forward and squeeze Rachel's hand. "No, no. You-you don't count." She stammered with a smile, running her polka dot fingers along Rachel's palm. "I want to hear your voice all the time, every day. But-but she talks about asinine things like…like what kind of shampoo works best for her hair type, or…I don't know, she asks me about relationships that I don't care about…And she doesn't apostrophize things correctly."

"Quinn." Rachel chided with a chuckle. "Does she know you have Asperger's?"

Quinn shook her head, still tracing Rachel's palm.

"Just tell her to leave you alone." Rachel said simply. "Or talk about something else. Like lions."

Always lions. Or bears. Rachel knew Quinn was very quiet when she was around people she didn't know. She had no empathy or sympathy for superficial problems, but she'd cry a river if somebody's dog died.

"Central Park got a new lion yesterday!" Quinn exclaimed, knocking her knee against the table again. Rachel laughed loudly at the subject change and Quinn grinned in delight, tugging her hand back onto the table. Quinn wouldn't let go, even when the waiter brought their appetizers.

"Her name's Madge." Quinn added. Her eyes were bright as she stared at Rachel, waiting for a response.

Rachel nodded sagely. "Like Madonna."

Quinn hummed. She rocked forward and traced her fingers around Rachel's hand.

"Are you reading my palm?" Rachel asked.

Quinn nodded immediately, smiling at the idea. "Yes. I am." She said slowly. "It says…Oh, look! It says you'll be married to the most glorious person in the world for the rest of your life!"

Rachel's eyes widened. "I get re-married? You're divorcing me?" she asked, looking overly distraught.

Quinn's smile dropped for a moment until Rachel laughed at her stricken expression. She'd brought it on herself. Quinn knocked her in the shin with her boot and looked back at her palm, lips quirked up.

"Let's see…It also says you're going to win more Tonys. _Lots_ of them, too." Quinn stated, feigning surprise. Rachel bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Because you're _so_ talented." Quinn continued seriously. "And your voice is my favorite sound. And your face is my favorite face."

Rachel flushed and smiled. Quinn hooked a foot around her ankle.

"And…oh no…" Quinn said with a disappointed expression. "It looks like you're gonna have to buy me a grizzly bear." She looked at Rachel sympathetically, and Rachel just laughed loudly.

She could actually see it happening. She could see a giant bear killing them both.

Rachel kept laughing all through dinner, listening to Quinn's predictions. She only stopped when they sat down at a bench in downtown Davis to watch a Christmas light show. The wind was blowing Rachel's hair around her face, and she was freezing, but it was beautiful. Quinn kept puffing out her breath, trying to make it into shapes. She was failing.

"Here, baby." Quinn said quietly, pulling the rubber band off her wrist and using it to tie Rachel's hair back. She tucked the ponytail into Rachel's coat and pulled the scarf up to her ears. "Better?"

Rachel nodded, eyes crinkling with a smile.

Quinn kissed her red nose. "You look like an Eskimo."

Rachel didn't say anything. If she spoke, she'd get scarf fuzz in her mouth. But she tugged on one of Quinn's ears with her mitten-clad hand.

Quinn pulled out a small booklet from her purse and held it out for Rachel. "Happy birthday, little bear." She whispered.

Rachel pulled the flaps of Quinn's wooly hat before taking the booklet. It was a playbill. From her own show. The _Funny Girl_ revival. She was about to ask why this was a birthday present when she caught sight of it.

The signature on the front. The _autograph_.

"Tina helped me get it." Quinn explained, probably aware that Rachel would need some time to process this. "I mean, it wasn't that hard. You were playing her character, so…If you feel like you're going to pass out, please warn me, okay?"

Rachel wasn't going to pass out. She might _die_, but no, she would not ruin this moment by fainting.

She was holding a playbill signed by Barbra Streisand, with the message "_From one Fanny to another, you're a star, darling._"

Rachel pressed her hand over the scarf covering her mouth, trying not to burst out into tears or song or laughter or anything else that might bubble its way up without her consent. The tears came anyway, and she turned and put an arm around Quinn's neck and buried her face there. Quinn chuckled and rubbed her back, swaying her from side to side on the bench.

"You deserve it, baby. She's right." Quinn whispered, tickling Rachel's ear with her breath.

Rachel pulled back and looked tearfully up at her wife. "I'm so _happy_." She cried out, muffled a bit by the scarf.

God, she was a fucking mess. She couldn't feel her nose. But she was pretty sure it was running, along with her eyes.

Quinn laughed. "I couldn't tell!"

"I love you so much." Rachel whined, looking down at her new prized possession. Quinn tapped her chin to get her to look back up.

"The playbill or me?" she asked, shaking her head around to get her hat flaps to hit Rachel's head.

"You!" Rachel cried, wrapping her arms back around Quinn. Quinn pulled her into her lap and held her as the Christmas light show continued.

"Love you too, little bear." She murmured happily. "My little Eskimo. Or penguin. Polar bear…orca…arctic fox…walrus-"

"_Shh_." Rachel pulled back enough to place a mitten over Quinn's smiling mouth. She drew the line at _walrus_, knowing that Quinn could carry on forever. "Just keep me warm." She said quietly.

"Did you know arctic foxes change color with the seasons?" Quinn asked softly. "I wish_ I_ could change color with the seasons."

Rachel snorted a laugh into Quinn's shoulder. She could see it now. A blue Quinn. A green Quinn. Quinn basically did change color with the seasons. She turned red in the summer and her hair got darker in the winter. She called herself an iguana. Rachel kept smiling.

"Happy birthday." Quinn whispered. She hummed along to the Christmas music that went with the light show, and sang a few of the choruses right into Rachel's ear.

Rachel clutched the playbill in one hand and the back of Quinn's jacket in the other until she was able to pull herself together enough to go home and finish off the giant cookie.


	8. Chapter 8

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 8: Sing Me Sweet**

"One Short Day" was one of Rachel's favorite songs from _Wicked_. It was just so jovial. It represented her mood perfectly as she bounced through the door to the apartment after work, which is why she was singing it out loud. Because when Rachel had a song in her head, she sang it out loud.

Unrestrained externalization. It's what she was known for.

"_One short day in the emerald cittttttyyyyy!_" she cried out, twirling around to shut the door behind her.

Rachel hung up her coat and then turned around to greet the animals. She never faltered in the lyrics as they descended upon her. She picked up a balled-up sock before she was mauled, and tossed it into the living room for Cloud, who spun on the spot to chase after it with Cornelius. They crashed into the back of the couch together, rolling into one fluffy white and black blur.

Rachel switched to humming as she was approached by her pride of lions, led by Butter. The fat, white cat sat right at the edge of the living room, glaring disapprovingly at the dogs with her mismatched eyes. When she was sure they weren't returning, she sauntered up to Rachel, winding her chubby body around Rachel's legs.

Or thumping into Rachel's legs because she lacked the agility to "wind."

Rachel bent down to scratch her back. She stopped humming to listen for activity in the apartment.

"Quinn?" she called, eyes darting around the living room. "I'm home!"

There was no response. Rachel finished with Butter, and then moved on to George, Jelly, and Benjamin. Once _everybody_ had received their attention, purring and kicking happily, she stepped out of the foyer.

Ten minutes after she'd come through the door. It was actually a short entrance time. Not that she recorded them or anything. Two dogs had gotten distracted by an old, fuzzy sock, and the other two were missing.

Rachel dropped her bag on the couch, slipped off her shoes, and brushed away as much cat hair as possible before heading to the bedroom. She opened the door quietly and moved inside with an inaudible "awww."

There were three golden lumps on the bed. Quinn was lying with a fleece blanket over her, blonde hair visible out of the top. Barnaby lay in a ball at the foot of the bed, and Charizard, redder than the other two, was curled up by Quinn. She had her arms around him.

Rachel wanted to take a picture. She pulled out her phone and did exactly that. She could put it in the office next to the one Quinn had of Rachel sleeping and drooling in the passenger seat of their car, face pressed against the window on a trip down to San Diego.

It was charming. Quinn loved it.

Rachel made enough noise to wake the dogs up, and they clambered sleepily around on the bed trying to figure out what was happening. Barnaby bounced onto the floor and Char trampled all over Quinn to leap over the edge.

Rachel eyed her wife. Quinn whined, but didn't move. Rachel shut the dogs out and then climbed into the spot Charizard had vacated. It was very warm. Rachel put her head on the other half of the _101 Dalmatians_ pillow and watched Quinn blink at her.

"Are you okay, baby?" Rachel asked quietly. She brushed blonde hair out of Quinn's eyes.

Quinn nodded.

"Sleepy?" Rachel continued sympathetically.

Quinn nodded again.

Rachel's lips quirked up. "Are you grumpy? Why aren't we speaking?"

Quinn heaved a sigh and pressed her face further into the pillow. Rachel frowned and inched closer.

"Why are you in bed? Did you get sick?" she pressed, running a hand down Quinn's cheek. She wasn't feverish or anything. But Quinn was not a napping type of person. She was unable to sit or lie still in the middle of the day. Why waste the daylight when she could be playing in the yard with the dogs? Running around with Rachel. Dancing. Trying to do a handstand in the living room and crashing into the fucking entertainment center.

There were so many better ways to spend her time than napping. Quinn sighed again. Rachel tapped her lips.

"I…did _very_ badly on my exam." Quinn whispered.

Rachel's eyebrows shot up. She was glad it was nothing "serious." But she'd been expecting something like "I wanted to go to the waterpark this weekend, but they're closed for all of January." Or "We ran out of mint chocolate chip ice cream." Rachel kept her eyes locked on Quinn's, waiting patiently for her to continue.

She didn't.

Pharmacology. The first thing to take Quinn down. It was a worthy adversary in Rachel's opinion. No shame at all. Rachel wasn't even completely sure what _Tylenol_ did.

"There's another one, right?" Rachel asked gently, playing with Quinn's hair. It was getting longer again. There was so much to run her fingers through.

Quinn nodded silently.

"Well, bear, you'll just have to study harder for that one instead of trying to teach Cornelius how to climb the tree in the backyard." Rachel said, lips quirked up. Quinn narrowed her eyes.

They'd seen a terrier climb a tree on America's Funniest Videos, and were now convinced that Cornelius possessed this ability. Despite his larger size and the fact that he was unwilling to do _anything_ he was told.

"There's nothing you can do now." Rachel continued quietly. "So just…focus on the future. Get this course out of the way, and you'll be a vet in no time. A pharmacological expert!"

The corners of Quinn's mouth twitched. She fisted her hands in the pillow. "I'm only halfway through." She mumbled, staring at Rachel honestly.

Rachel smiled incredulously. Sometimes people just needed some encouragement. A smile. Some Pooh Bear quotes. A tummy rub. When Rachel's mind was overrun with dance steps or vocal anxiety, Quinn would do the same. Starting with cookies.

"Yeah, you're _halfway _through, Quinn!" Rachel pointed out, leaning up on her elbow to include hand gestures. "Only a couple more years until I can call you Doctor Fabray."

Rachel saluted, like that's what you would do with a doctor. She'd never actually seen anybody salute a doctor. She was living in the moment.

Quinn groaned and laughed, flipping onto her back and staring at the ceiling exhaustedly. Rachel watched her quietly, still playing with the loose strands of blonde hair. When Quinn started shaking her head around periodically, Rachel knew she was working herself up in her mind. Getting lost somewhere. Spinning away a little bit.

"I'm gonna sing to you." She told Quinn impulsively, putting her hands on Quinn's arm.

Quinn looked up at her with anxious hazel eyes.

Rachel hummed while she thought of a song. The students she was working with had been doing a Jack Johnson number. But it was depressing. Rachel needed sunshine. She rolled with that feeling and picked a Matt Nathanson song that made her think of Quinn.

"_If the sun don't light, and the night won't turn,"_ Rachel started quietly, having forgotten how the song actually began. She wasn't even completely sure this was the right chorus. "_We'll get a room at the end of the world."_

Rachel trailed off for a second and bent down close to Quinn's face, staring at her pointedly. Quinn cracked a smile and Rachel palmed both of her cheeks.

"_And we'll rewrite all the wrongs we've learned, safe in our room at the end of the world_." Rachel sang softly. She had slowed it down, mostly because the lyrics were just barely coming to her. Quinn bit her lip.

"Louder, please." She requested.

Rachel tickled her neck and raised her voice. Now there wasn't a doubt in her mind that these were the wrong words. But she plowed right on. "_Come on and dance with me, love, just come on and dance with me, love."_

Again, Rachel leaned down. Quinn was expecting it, and she kissed her sweetly on the lips and then pulled Rachel's ears.

"Okay, wait." Quinn said quietly, putting her hand over Rachel's mouth to prevent her from continuing. Rachel raised her eyebrows at Quinn's serious face. "Sing-sing the Queen one where you make all the funny noises."

Rachel laughed into Quinn's hand. "Under Pressure?"

Quinn pulled her hand away and sat up, nodding and tossing off the blanket. "I'll dance with you." She said, sliding off the edge of the bed and holding out her hand. "_Love_." She added with a smile.

Rachel had definitely succeeded in cheering her up. But why stop there? Especially when she was being handed the perfect opportunity to make a fool of herself. She scrunched up her nose trying to remember the lyrics once Quinn pulled her off the bed, and Quinn tried unsuccessfully to pat her hair down in the mirror.

Rachel had heard the song hundreds of times. Even if she didn't consciously know the lyrics, they were ingrained in her soul.

"_Mm ba ba de_." Rachel started with a smile. "_Mm ba ba de…Um bum ba de. Um bub u bum da de. Pressure, pushing down on me, pressing down on you, no man ask for, under pressure, that burns a building down, splits a family in two, puts people on streets_…"

Quinn grabbed Rachel's other hand and grinned expectantly. Rachel knew her sound effects were the best part. She liked to exaggerate them until they were ridiculous and both she and Quinn were crying with laughter.

"_Um ba ba be, um ba ba be. Ee day da! Ee day da_!" She cried shrilly. Quinn spun her around. Rachel increased her pitch even further for the next line, making sure to sound like a mad woman. "_Chippin' aroooouuund, kick my brains around the floor, these are the daaaayyys, it never rains but it pours_."

Rachel bounced on her toes and gestured for Quinn to sing with her. Any random noises would work. "_Ee do ba be, ee do ba ba ba, um bo bo , be bap!_"

Quinn swung Rachel back onto the bed and climbed over her, grinning down at her wife. Rachel kept singing, reveling in the loud, melodic laughter. "_People on the streets, ee da de da de, people on the streets ee da de da de da de da_…"

There was no anxiety left in those hazel eyes. Rachel finished her song for her almost-doctor wife in some sort of bat level of super pitch, shaking with barely-restrained laughter. Quinn did the same.

"_And love dares you to care for, the people on the edge of the night, and loves dares you to change our way of caring about ourse__lves, this is our last dance, this is ourselves, under pressure."_

~oooooooooo~

When Rachel walked through the door the next day, it was after her first doctor's appointment of the new year. Quinn came barreling out of the hallway and into the living room wearing her reindeer pajamas and an NYU hoody. One of Rachel's.

She stumbled on Barnaby and caught herself on the kitchen counter before hurrying over to Rachel.

Rachel smiled. "Is there a spider in the bathtub?" she asked, letting her wife greet her with a kiss. Quinn put her hands on top of Rachel's head and stared down at her, unamused.

"How did it go? What did they say?" Quinn questioned, lolling Rachel's head from side to side.

Rachel sighed and put her hands in Quinn's hoody pockets. "He said…that I am doing _fine, _bear. Perfectly normal. Blood pressure is normal, heart is normal. I am the picture of health."

Quinn exhaled in relief. Her breath smelled like Sunny Delight. Delight just spewed out of Quinn at all times. Rachel knew she was healthy. Quinn had been feeding her bananas like a monkey, and they'd been doing "yoga" on the giant balls every morning.

"Good. Good, good good." Quinn commented, shaking her head around.

Rachel smiled and steered her over to the laptop in front of the couch. They had a Skype session with Tom in a bit. It was a weekly thing now. Unless somebody had a breakdown.

"Have you been studying?" Rachel asked, settling back into the cushions and leaning on Quinn's shoulder. George leapt lightly up into her lap and Charizard settled on the floor in front of Quinn's feet, breathing like a jet engine.

Quinn nodded determinedly, rubbing the dog with her toes.

"Yeah?" Rachel checked with a smile. "Can Cornelius climb a tree yet?"

Quinn's face fell a little bit. She puffed her cheeks out and stared at the kitchen where Seal was sleeping in front of his food bowl. "I don't think he will." Quinn said seriously. "He has no incentive to do so."

Rachel nudged her in the ribs. "We'll get him there."

That dog could _fly_ if he put his mind to it. Rachel would teach him to climb a fucking tree. He'd probably do it if she put a fence around it and told him not to.

Quinn accepted the call from Tom a minute later, and they both smiled when they saw his sparkling green eyes on screen. Henry the octopus sat next to him.

"Hello, Quinn!" He greeted brightly. "And…George. Is that Rachel behind you, George?"

Rachel pulled the cat against her chest and stuck her head around him, right as Jelly landed in her lap. She was a cat magnet. "Hello, Tom! How are you?" she called. She maneuvered around until she had one cat on each thigh, both of them staring at the computer screen.

"Well, I'm fabulous!" Tom proclaimed. "Do you know where you'd like to start today, Quinn? Or shall we just talk in general."

Quinn hummed. She glanced at Rachel for a moment to see her wife watching her, as well as two cats with matching facial expressions on her knees. She looked at Tom and shrugged easily.

"I had a dream I was a triceratops last night." She stated.

Okay. So, not starting with the test failure or health check-up or school happenings. Starting with dinosaurs. That was good.

Rachel bit her cheek and watched Tom. He seemed completely unsurprised, and he smiled knowingly.

"Do you think that means something?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

Quinn shook her head immediately. "No. Of-of course not. Dream analysis is ridiculous. I just thought it was interesting because no one else has ever had the experience of being a dinosaur."

Rachel had to let some of this laughter out. "Bear, _you_ haven't had that experience either." She reasoned.

Quinn turned and stared at her. "I did. It-it was a dream, but that doesn't mean it wasn't real. I was a triceratops, Rachel. In the Mesozoic era. It was-it was very realistic."

Rachel trusted this. Quinn knew her dinosaurs. It was completely feasible that she'd assessed how historically accurate her surroundings were during a dream where she turned into a triceratops. Rachel didn't even know what a triceratops looked like, aside from the yellow one in _The Land Before Time_.

"That sounds like an awesome dream to have, Quinn. Do you have any others?" Tom moved the conversation forward.

Rachel leaned back against Quinn's arm and kissed her shoulder.

"I-no." Quinn hesitated. "I dream about riding various animals. And about Rachel, but when I wake up she's still there, so that's better than-I don't know, any other dreams…"

Quinn trailed off and Rachel pressed her face into her shoulder. She heard Tom laughing while Quinn kissed her head. When Rachel looked back up, Butter pounced into her lap and settled right between the other two cats.

"I have other things to talk about." Quinn remarked. Tom nodded, and she licked her lips. Rachel ran a finger up the seam of her jeans.

"I-yesterday I failed a test. In pharmacology." Quinn stated, staring at the screen. Tom stayed quiet, listening intently. "I mean, I don't-I already-I already talked to Rachel, and I've been studying today, but I just-it's never happened before. I thought you should know."

Quinn finished talking and her knees starting bouncing. Rachel pulled on the rubber band around her wife's wrist.

"Well, it sounds like you've got a pretty good handle on it, Quinn." Tom observed, smiling as he tried to spy Rachel through the screen of cats. "Were you distracted? Did you just not know the material?"

Quinn hummed. She nodded sagely. "Yeah, I thought I knew it, so I was trying to teach Seal how to climb a tree."

Again, Tom was unsurprised. He laughed this time. "And how did that go? Is he stuck at the top of a Redwood?"

Quinn's eyes widened. Rachel knew exactly what she was thinking. What if they could get Cornelius to climb a Redwood tree? It was completely fucking ridiculous, but Rachel was intrigued. Her dog could be like a superhero. And then he'd get distracted by a squirrel and fall to his death.

Quinn shook her head absently. "I think…it takes momentum to get to the top, so he'd get halfway up and just…" Now Quinn looked horrified. "…plummet."

Rachel grimaced. Benjamin bounced up into her lap and stared at the screen with the cats.

"So aside from…_that_," Tom continued, tapping a pen against his desk, "how's school? Are you speaking up? Getting along?"

Quinn scrunched up her nose as she thought. Charizard stood up and blocked the screen with his face, startling Tom for a moment. Char's nose always startled people. But then they saw his eyes and his red fur and got sucked in and loved him forever.

"Whoa, there's Char boy." Tom said with a smile. He could probably only see a black screen right now because the dog's face was pressed into it, but Quinn gently shoved him away and he ambled into the kitchen to wake up Cornelius.

Rachel handed Benjamin to Quinn because there wasn't enough room in her own lap. He kicked Quinn in the chest until she set him free.

Quinn shook her head and focused back on Tom. "There's-there's a girl in my class who won't leave me alone."

Rachel laughed immediately. "Ah, yes. Kelly." She said, twisting around the cats like a python to nod at Tom. "She has a crush on my wife."

Quinn frowned. "No she doesn't."

Rachel just looked at her. Seriously. Quinn furrowed her brow, probably replaying every conversation she'd ever had with Kelly.

"What do you mean she won't leave you alone?" Tom asked, folding his arms and leaning into the computer.

"She just…talks _all the time_." Quinn stated emphatically. "She says-she says I'm a good listener, but, I mean, it's just…It's exhausting being-being around other people for me already. I don't-she gives me headaches."

Rachel frowned. She might need to beat somebody up. She rubbed Quinn's thigh until George snagged her arm with his claw. Rachel shoved him off her knee because she wasn't going to act as his throne while he assaulted her.

"I can't-I can't-people don't…I don't-" Quinn stammered.

"Hey, bear." Rachel interrupted. She leaned over Jelly to catch Quinn's eye. She tugged on the neck of her NYU hoody until Quinn looked at her. Then she attempted to wink. "Nice sweatshirt."

Quinn nodded, flushing red. She took a breath. "People-people make me…I mean, _she_ makes me feel like I'm trapped. Like I have to hold still and-and listen to her, and then it's always like we're on different pages of different books…on separate planets. And it happens with everybody. And…I just don't…understand." Quinn finished quietly.

Rachel watched her carefully. "Because they don't know you." She whispered. "You should enlighten them."

Quinn chewed on her lip. She pulled Butter out of Rachel's lap so she could run her fingers through her fur.

"I agree with Rachel, Quinn." Tom commented, watching them seriously. "Maybe start with Kelly. Tell her you have Asperger's, and see how it goes. It might lead to a better understanding."

Rachel smiled knowingly at her wife. "If they behave derogatorily in any way, you'll have an excuse to ignore them, bear. Because I know you're a sweetheart and you'll listen to them until they drive you crazy."

Quinn sighed. Her lips quirked up. She probably knew she was too kind for her own good.

"I kind of want to punch Kelly anyway for flirting with my wife." Rachel stated, not knowing if she was speaking to Quinn or to Tom. But it was something that needed to be said.

Tom laughed. "That sounds about right."

"I'll tell her." Quinn stated abruptly.

Rachel eyed her. "That I want to punch her?"

"That-that I have Asperger's." Quinn corrected, shaking her head.

Tom nodded proudly. Rachel leaned over and kissed Quinn's cheek, ignoring Jelly's yowls of protest. Quinn could talk to Rachel all day. Or listen all day. Which was good, because it was _Rachel._ That was all she needed. People like Rachel and Sam who'd take her as she was and amplify all the ideas and bears and pictures right back to her.

~ooooooooooo~

Rachel spent that night amplifying the bears right back to Quinn. While they were naked, of course.

"They can run forty miles an hour, Rachel." Quinn explained excitedly while Rachel straddled her hips. "I mean, they-they could catch you _easily_. If I had treasure on my property, I'd have bears guarding it."

Rachel laughed. What property? God. If Quinn had treasure, _Rachel _would guard it. She nodded interestedly. "And…would these bears be trained, or would they attack you as well?"

Quinn opened her mouth and froze, rethinking her plan. Rachel pitched forward and kissed her while the opportunity was there. She sucked on her lip and then pushed her tongue into her mouth.

Quinn moaned lightly. She gently pushed Rachel back by the shoulder, looking up at her with dark eyes. "They-they would be trained. Because they'd live with me in my house."

Rachel snorted into Quinn's shoulder. Quinn rubbed her back, laughing along. She trailed her fingers down Rachel's sides and settled on her thighs.

"Like Goldilocks and the Three Bears." Rachel observed. Quinn nodded immediately, pulling Rachel back down.

"You'd be the smallest bear. I'd need two others." Quinn whispered. She arched her back until Rachel's breasts were pressed against hers, smiling devilishly. Her favorite toys.

Rachel chuckled and it rumbled in both of their bodies. She kissed a trail from Quinn's jaw to the hollow in her neck. "And you'd be Goldilocks." She murmured. She moved a hand up to tug on Quinn's hair, smiling at the grunt it elicited.

"And what treasure are the bears guarding?" Rachel continued, whispering in Quinn's ear. Quinn breathed exaggeratedly deeply so that Rachel would be lifted up and down. Rachel closed her eyes and rested her chin on Quinn's chest.

"Does it feel like you're on a boat?" Quinn asked quietly, exhaling heavily. "On the ocean?"

Rachel snorted into her neck when Quinn tried to roll her body like a wave. It was sort of like a waterbed. Quinn was just so soft. "You didn't answer my question." Rachel reminded her.

Quinn hummed. She seemed to have lost focus on their conversation. It was probably for the best, seeing as it was completely absurd.

"Sorry." Quinn said bluntly, eyes focused on the ceiling. "I was thinking how otters hold hands to keep from drifting away in the ocean. Or the river, I guess. I'm not as well-informed about river otters."

Well. Rachel wasn't either. She smiled and kissed Quinn's chin.

Quinn scrunched up her nose. "I think people hold hands for the same reason. They don't want the other person to drift away. They want to keep them close and safe, and say 'I'm here with you. We're in this together.' Even if they're just crossing the street. I think that's love."

Rachel was melting. "You think?"

Quinn hummed. "One of many ways to express it." She looked back down at Rachel's awed brown eyes and grinned. "You hold my hand like an otter."

Rachel kissed the skin where her chin was resting. "Well, you just need help crossing the street."

Quinn bounced herself on the bed. "Shut up." She said with a laugh.

Rachel sighed happily. "Hold my hand." She closed her eyes and held both her hands out, waiting for Quinn to take them. When nothing happened, Rachel opened one eye and stared at Quinn's suspicious face.

"You're my otter, bear. I need to keep you close and safe." Rachel murmured through her smile. "Hold my hands, please."

Quinn contained her smile by pressing her lips together. She took Rachel's hands and kissed them both. "Otter bear." She muttered.

Rachel could only imagine the sort of pictures she was seeing.

"You know, I'll listen to you talk _all day_, big bear." Rachel assured quietly. Quinn probably knew this. Rachel just felt like saying it. And whatever Rachel felt like saying, she said. "You can always tell me what's on your mind. No matter how weird."

Quinn took Rachel's hands and pressed them against her own cheeks. "I don't think anything we talk about can be considered weird anymore."

True. Overexposure to "weird" had made it "normal." What the hell had happened to Rachel's life?

"You know…bears can have four babies at once." Quinn murmured into Rachel's hair.

Rachel hummed.

"If I had four bear cubs…none of them would be as cute as you." Quinn continued. Rachel smiled sleepily.

"I could be their leader." She mused.

Rachel Berry, leader of the bears. There was another ridiculous conversation waiting to happen. Or currently in progress. But it was sweet, and she was tired, and octopus-trapped by her warm wife, so she reveled in it. It was her favorite part sometimes. She could only do this with Quinn. And maybe other people wouldn't understand, but she _loved_ doing this with Quinn.


	9. Chapter 9

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 9: If You Want, I Want Too**

Quinn ate her lunch at a sunny picnic table in the courtyard outside the lecture hall, stacking her chocolate Teddy Grahams and wondering how acrobatic real bears could be. She knew they could do somersaults, but swinging from the trapeze seemed a little extreme. But it was something Quinn would like to see.

She and Rachel put holes through the wall whenever they tried gymnastics. It was usually an impulsive expression of joy that resulted in some sort of ill-timed cartwheel into a solid mass, like the television.

Thinking about it made Quinn smile. Her wife was not an acrobat.

Quinn checked her phone and found that she still had twenty minutes before class resumed. She balled up her Fruit-by-the-Foot and stuck it in her mouth, scrunching up her face when the Teddy Graham tower collapsed into her textbook on the page about large animal anesthesia.

She couldn't wait to anesthetize a bear.

And give it a hug when no one was looking.

Quinn jumped slightly when someone slid into the bench on the other side of the picnic table. She'd thought she was alone. Everybody else usually got lunch from campus dining or various fast food establishments. Quinn liked to enjoy her peanut butter sandwich in peace.

Kelly stared at her, one eyebrow hitched, looking entirely unimpressed with Quinn's lunch. Quinn raised her own eyebrow challengingly. She knew she did it better than Kelly. Better than most people, actually. Except not this time because she had her cheeks full of Fruit-by-the-Foot.

Kelly just smirked and leaned forward over the table, putting a hand on Quinn's wrist. Quinn sighed internally. She'd just wanted another twenty minutes of quiet.

"So, my brother invited me to his wedding," Kelly started, plucking a Teddy Graham out of Quinn's book. Quinn narrowed her eyes. "But, like, I dunno if he actually wants me there, or if it's just for show, you know? Do you think he's forgiven me for the whole 'I hate your weirdo fiancé' thing?"

Quinn managed to swallow her Fruit-by-the-Foot ball. She blinked at Kelly. Even if Quinn _cared_, she wouldn't know what Kelly's brother was thinking.

"Why don't-why don't you ask him?" she suggested quietly, scooping her Teddy Grahams back into the bag before Kelly could get any more.

Kelly rolled her eyes. Quinn noticed they were too small for her face. She liked big eyes. Big, brown, lovely eyes.

"I can't ask him." Kelly stated like it was a ridiculous idea, tapping a finger against Quinn's wrist. "He'll think I don't trust him. Maybe I could get his friends to ask him for me. Do you think they'd do that? I don't want them to think they're betraying his trust. I mean, like, I like them all, and everything, you know?"

Quinn could not find the words to describe how little she cared for this conversation, not that she would have voiced them anyway. She'd care if it was about something that _mattered_, or if Kelly would be straightforward for once.

Quinn did not like deciphering this kind of talk. It was annoying. If you were unsure what somebody was thinking, _ask them_. Why did people have to complicate things? Speculation was a waste of her damn time. She ran her fingers around the knots in the picnic table and bounced her toes against the grass.

"I have Asperger's." she blurted when she saw Kelly gearing up to talk some more. Then she shook her head around because she hadn't meant to say it like that. So _suddenly_. Kelly was staring at her with raised eyebrows. She'd finally let go of Quinn's wrist.

"I…thought you should know." Quinn continued quietly, eyeing the crumbs in the crease of her book. She wasn't ashamed, but she'd never told anybody except Rachel and Sam, and her other friends had just sort of figured it out. She didn't know what to expect. Quinn _needed_ to know how to prepare for things.

"Well, that's…" Kelly trailed off and hummed.

Quinn watched her lips warily.

"I mean, it explains a lot." Kelly finally said with a short laugh. Quinn frowned. "Kind of. I mean, I thought people with that acted like…robots, you know? Like, really unemotional. But I guess…you're _really_ quiet."

Quinn tapped her hands against the edge of the table, brow furrowed in concentration. Or confusion. She didn't know what to say.

"But, I've never seen you, like, throw a tantrum." Kelly continued, eyeing Quinn curiously.

Quinn's mouth dropped open to answer, but nothing came out. Where was this girl getting her information? She rocked uncomfortably sideways on the beach.

"I don't…" Quinn blinked a few times to focus her thoughts. "Where-where did you hear that? That's not…"

Kelly shrugged and smiled brightly. She lifted a hand like she was going to grab Quinn's, but noticed they were both under the table. She set her own back down awkwardly.

"Well, whatever." Kelly proclaimed, checking the time on her phone. I guess I'll learn from you. Now, about the wedding, if I do go I'll need a date. Will you come as my friend?"

Quinn blinked, completely lost. This whole conversation had thrown her sideways. She'd be off for the rest of the day, or until she saw an animal or Rachel to set her right. She smoothed her hands over her dress repeatedly and shook her head.

"No, thank you." Quinn said quietly. "Could-could you please leave me alone during lunch? And…maybe class too?" she asked uncertainly. It seemed like the only option left. A direct approach. "I just need more-more quiet than other people, or my mind gets really…wound up."

Kelly stared at Quinn for a moment. Quinn hoped she was relating this back to Asperger's. This conversation had been wholly useless so far. Then Kelly raised her eyebrows and nodded slowly, smiling slightly. Quinn got that look a lot. It was a sort of "back away from the crazy person" look. She waited until Kelly had said goodbye and walked away to finish off her Teddy Grahams.

~oooooooooo~

After class, Quinn drove over to the drama buildings to settle her head and say hello to her wife. Rachel had a late class that day, and Quinn walked quietly through the open doors of one of the studios to see her standing in front of about twenty kids in varying states of exhaustion.

Rachel did not look exhausted. She had her wild eyes, and Quinn sat cross-legged on the floor against one of the walls to watch.

Rachel removed one of her hands from her hip and flung it around in the air, obviously huffing and puffing about something the students were doing wrong. Or something they were doing right. Or what she'd had for breakfast.

Quinn's wife was a very intense person.

"So when you fall off the stage and land in the orchestra, don't come crying to me when they give your lead away!" Rachel proclaimed in a raised voice.

Quinn smiled at the hand gestures she incorporated. She loved watching Rachel in her element. Her little bear was totally in charge. The professor was nowhere in sight.

Quinn wondered what she'd done with him.

She watched the students hurry back to their spots, either starstruck or minutes from collapsing. Or both. Rachel turned the music back on. It was "Greased Lightning," and Quinn's toes started tapping immediately.

"Okay, Jack, more intense hip movement." Rachel called out. Quinn smiled to herself.

Rachel crossed her arms and focused completely on everybody's steps. She must have noticed something, because she huffed and stepped forward, shaking her head exasperatedly.

"Guys, GUYS!" she called, stopping the music again. "Smile! Loosen up! Think…Disco Elvis, okay? And stop looking at the damn floor! I am telling you, you will end up in the pit with a saxophone up your ass if you don't listen to me!"

Quinn scrunched up her nose and laughed. Rachel's lips quirked up at the chuckles she received from her students. She twirled on her heel to go back to the front of the studio and did a double-take when she caught Quinn out of the corner of her eye. She stumbled, wide-eyed. Quinn flushed when all faces turned to her.

"Hey! Everybody," Rachel said loudly, commanding their attention again and winking at Quinn, "this is my lovely wife, Quinn." Rachel flashed Quinn one of her little foolish smiles and then turned back and glared good-naturedly at her students. "Now run through the number one more time, and then you're free. And if I see any of you watching the floor, I will duct tape your face to it so that you can't even _see_ Broadway."

Quinn could see that happening. She nodded slightly at the half-terrified, half-amused looks she got. Yeah. You better listen to little bear. Then Rachel skipped over and Quinn stood up to greet her. She grunted at the ache in her knees.

"Getting old, baby?" Rachel joked, leaning up into Quinn to give her a kiss.

Quinn hummed. Rachel was covered in a light sheen of sweat, and Quinn smoothed back some flyaway dark hair before wiping her hand on her dress.

"You're gross." She complained lightly, lips quirked up.

Rachel pouted and rubbed her face into Quinn's shoulder. Quinn groaned exaggeratedly and shoved her away. Rachel kept coming back. She wrapped her arms around Quinn's waist and refused to let go.

"How was class?" she asked with an innocent smile.

"You're a koala." Quinn returned, trying to pry Rachel off of her just to see if it was possible.

Rachel sighed and shook her head. "_Bear._ The word is _bear_."

Quinn was laughing on the inside. She loved when Rachel played with her. She needed games on a daily basis.

"Maybe a leech." Quinn pondered out loud. Rachel gasped, but didn't let go. Quinn brushed more dark hair off her face. "Symbiotic, though. You can be the bird that picks bugs off of cows."

Rachel scrunched up her nose. She tapped her finger against Quinn's chest. "That makes you the cow."

Quinn shrugged. She loved cows. She could be a cow. She could be a big, black and white cow, and Rachel would be the tiny bird sitting on her back in the field. She smiled just picturing it. Quinn would make that happen someday.

"Really, though, class was good?" Rachel asked, playing with the light straps of Quinn's dress.

Quinn was thinking about whether she'd rather be a red cow or a black and white one. She'd look like Charizard if she went with red. The dog and the Pokémon. And she was pretty sure red heifers were used as ritual sacrifices in the Hebrew Bible. But that probably shouldn't affect her decision.

Maybe a white cow, like the English kind. She could go live in the hills and be herded by Seal. And Rachel could be the little brown bird on her shoulder.

Quinn blinked when Rachel tweaked her nose.

Rachel looked amused. "Class?" she asked simply.

Quinn hummed. The music stopped and people started gathering themselves together to leave the studio. "I told her." Quinn stated.

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "Kelly? So she's going to leave you in peace?"

Quinn frowned. She didn't know what was going to happen. Quinn had enough trouble keeping track of her own words without Kelly's roundabout, useless nonsense in her mind as well. She didn't need vague tilts of the head or odd expressions. What the hell did that accomplish? She needed a damn statement. With no words lost along the way.

Rachel tapped the lip Quinn was chewing. "She didn't say anything?" she guessed.

Quinn sighed. "She said…it explained a lot. And she expected tantrums and robots. She took some-some of my Teddy Grahams, told me about her brother, and then asked me to a wedding."

Rachel narrowed her eyes up at Quinn's face. "Excuse me?"

Quinn puffed out her cheeks. Rachel pressed her lips together to fight a smile.

"She asked you to a wedding?"

"I think so. As a friend." Quinn mused. "And I said no. And then I told her."

Rachel watched her for a second. She put a hand behind Quinn's head and tickled the back of her neck. "So, she really doesn't understand Asperger's."

Quinn shook her head slowly. Either that, or Kelly just didn't care. Quinn wouldn't be surprised either way. But as long as Quinn was left alone, for the most part, she'd be happy. Even if it was for the wrong reasons. Quinn caught Rachel's look and knew exactly what she was thinking.

Rachel liked to make people understand things. She'd work everything out in her head, and then put it on charts and graphs and lists to present it clearly to other people. Quinn narrowed her eyes at her wife. She didn't need Rachel making a PowerPoint presentation to her vet school class.

"She…nodded when I asked her to leave me alone." Quinn added.

State the facts. That's all Quinn could do.

She wondered what would happen if she crossed a red cow with a black and white one. It would be like a Dalmatian with a golden retriever. Her eyes widened. Rachel poked her in the ribs.

"_Bear_." She chided laughingly.

Quinn bounced on her toes. Rachel grabbed her elbows to steady her.

"Did _you_ have a good day, baby?" Quinn asked, changing the subject. Rachel eyed her, letting her know they'd be coming back to it later.

Rachel nodded. "It was a good day."

"Lots of disco Elvis." Quinn stated sagely.

Rachel laughed. "Exactly."

Quinn kissed the corner of her mouth while it was still open. She grabbed Rachel's stuff and put an arm around her to escort her to the car. Rachel was sitting in the passenger seat when she turned to Quinn with a knowing smile.

"So, have you decided what breed of cow you'd be?"

Quinn smiled as brightly as ever. She would be delighted to have this discussion out loud.

~oooooooooo~

"Red or blue?" Rachel asked, stepping out of the closet wearing only her underwear and holding up two dresses.

Quinn perked up from her place on the bed between Char and Cloud. She shamelessly eyed her wife's body, one arm around each of her dogs. They looked on as well because they knew the closet was where socks were born.

"And if I wear red, you can't wear green." Rachel added. "We'll look like Christmas."

She clanged the hangers together, smirking when Quinn finally looked at her face. Quinn just smiled and let her eyes drop again. Lovely, lovely legs. Lovely tummy. Lovely woman.

"I like what you're wearing now." She remarked. "But I love the blue dress on you. You look like Neptune."

Rachel's mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. "The _planet_?" she asked incredulously.

Quinn's arms circled the dogs tighter, pressing their faces against her cheeks. She went slightly wide-eyed as she realized what came out of her mouth. "It's the most beautiful planet." She hurriedly defended. "And, I mean, the color matches the dress. That's what I meant."

Rachel stared at her.

"It's blue because of methane." Quinn felt the need to add, rubbing both dogs' backs so that their feet thumped against the bed. "And stormy too, which makes it even more beautiful. It has Great Dark Spots, like the Great Red one on Jupiter. So…I like the blue."

Rachel's lips quirked up. "On the planet?"

Quinn nodded silently. Rachel plucked the dress off the hanger and shimmied it over her head, getting it stuck at her shoulders. Quinn bounced off the bed to help, giving the "stay" sign to the dogs. She expected absolutely nothing from them.

"Hold still." She instructed, gently pulling on the hem of the dress. Rachel whined from inside and Quinn tickled her belly to get her to stop squirming. She smiled at Rachel's muffled laughter. Rachel was panting when Quinn finally pulled the dress down and zipped up the back.

Quinn patted her dark hair down and palmed her flushed cheeks, kissing her forehead. "You look beautiful, baby."

Rachel flushed further. It was only dinner and a movie, a weekly date that they always tried to work in, but Rachel would take any excuse to dress up. Quinn was not complaining. She bounded back onto the bed between the dogs, surprised that they'd stayed put. She congratulated them by rubbing Char's nose and Cloud's tummy.

Rachel came out of the closet to find Quinn talking to the dogs, and she leaned against the wall for a minute to watch them.

Quinn looked up when Rachel hummed slightly.

"Bear…Have you heard of Autism Speaks?" Rachel asked carefully.

Quinn should've known it would only take a day for Rachel to come up with some kind of plan. Put her mind to work. Take action. She was Rachel Berry. Quinn smiled and nodded. She wasn't completely informed about the organization, but she'd heard of them.

Char made a garbled noise because he'd rolled over and was having trouble breathing, and Quinn set him right before looking back at Rachel.

"I talked to Tina about it." Rachel continued, picking up speed. "She thinks getting involved with them would provide the perfect opportunity to get my name out there during my little…break, while working with a cause that I'm passionate about."

Quinn nodded slowly. She rocked sideways a couple times so her shoulders knocked into the dogs.

"And you're…passionate about Autism Speaks?" Quinn checked. This was the first she'd heard of it. Rachel had done a select few things for the ASPCA and PETA and St. Jude's, but that was the extent of her "charity work."

Quinn knew Rachel would save the world if she could. But she was only a little bear.

"I know they're not…the perfect organization. And many people don't approve. But spreading awareness about these disorders is my goal, and I can do that with them, if only temporarily." Rachel said clearly. She grew more determined as she presented her idea to Quinn, now standing in front of her with a hand on Char's head. Quinn looked up at her, listening intently.

"They do these walks all over the country to raise awareness. I'm not saying I'd jump right in, but we could…research it some more." Rachel waved an arm through the air while her other hand rubbed Char's head absently. "Celine Dion is an advocate! Also, Tina Fey, Zach Quinto, Conan O'Brien..."

Rachel trailed off and looked down at Quinn with bright, expectant eyes.

Quinn hugged her dogs closer. "You-you found all this out in a _day_?"

Rachel nodded vigorously. Quinn smiled.

"I think…I mean, I don't have a lot of experience with other autism spectrum disorders, but I want to learn." Rachel said quietly, now with a hand on Cloud's head as well. She leaned over a little so that she was eye level with Quinn. "And I'll make sure everybody who looks up to me or follows me learns as well."

Quinn just kept nodding. She wouldn't say anything yet because Rachel was on a roll. And Rachel had her trapped. Triangulated between her and the dogs.

"There's a whole community of people out there with so much to offer." Rachel enthused. "Full of love and joy and sweet hearts like you, and…I don't know. They're misunderstood by people like Kelly. So I want to change that."

Rachel grinned and moved her hands from the dogs' heads to Quinn's ears. "You're a little crazy Quinn, but the world would be a better place if everybody knew somebody like you."

Quinn flushed and looked down at her lap. Rachel always knew exactly what to say to make her heart jump around and her face turn pink.

"Don't make me famous." She murmured.

Rachel chuckled. She tried to kneel down to catch Quinn's eye but failed in her Neptune dress. She tugged on Quinn's ears instead.

"Nobody has to know you have Asperger's if you don't want them to. Autism Speaks is a respectable organization, and nobody would question my involvement." Rachel assured.

Quinn looked up and into warm, brown eyes. "It _is_ a good way to get your name out there."

Rachel nodded, waiting patiently.

"And…" Quinn rocked into the dogs' shoulders again. "And-and it would just make you even more perfect. Even though you called me crazy. I love that you chose them."

Rachel pressed her lips together in a smile and shrugged. "I love _you_."

"You're crazier than me." Quinn said, eyeing Rachel like she was a stranger leaning into her space. "But I love you so much. And we're taking Barnesy and Seal and Cloud and Char on all the charity walks. And you can be their ringleader."

Rachel was obviously balancing her joy over Quinn approving her plan with her horror at the prospect of leading their dogs through more 5Ks. Quinn could tell by her facial expression. She finally let go of Cloud and Char to kiss Rachel lightly on the lips. She nibbled on her lower lip as she pulled away, tapped Rachel's cheek, and went to change into her own dress.

Rachel took her spot on the bed, bouncing her knees in excitement over the new project she had acquired.

~oooooooooo~

Quinn sat in the comfy movie theater seat holding Rachel's drink, popcorn, candy, pretzel, and napkins. Rachel struggled to pull the arm rest down, and when it finally moved, Rachel jolted herself forward with a small yelp. Quinn waited patiently, eyes fixed longingly on her own box of Junior Mints.

"Got it?" Quinn asked a little sarcastically, eyes smiling.

Rachel coughed and straightened back up and settled in her seat. "Yes, thank you."

She took the mountain of food from Quinn's arms and glanced around the mostly empty theater. Quinn could only see one other couple, and they were sitting in the second row. Rachel spotted them and then turned back to look at Quinn, eyeing her mischievously.

Quinn hummed, using her tongue to scrape Junior Mint off her teeth.

Rachel's eyes dropped to her mouth. "We're the only ones in here, bear." She whispered.

Quinn nodded slowly. She could see where Rachel was going with this, but she wanted to try something first. She took two Junior Mints and held them up in front of her eyes, staring at Rachel seriously.

"So we can play games, right?" she asked, face blank. "Because there's nobody to disturb."

Rachel laughed and sighed sort of hopelessly and shoved her shoulder, leaning back in her own seat. Quinn twisted around so that her face was right in front of Rachel's. She wiggled the Junior Mints between her fingers. "Because look, now my eyes match yours."

Rachel snorted and Quinn smiled and pitched forward to capture her lips.

"I'm kidding." Quinn said when she pulled back, putting the chocolate in her mouth. "Your eyes are one of a kind."

They could never be re-created in a million years. Or until a beautiful baby girl came along. And _especially_ not by Junior Mints.

Quinn would like to build a person out of movie theater candy one day. She could use Red Vines for their limbs and Milk Duds for anything that had to be absolutely indestructible or unbelievably sticky. Add in some Buncha Crunch and Sour Patch Kids for a variety of textures, and then glue it all together with the cream inside Junior Mints. It would fabulous. She probably couldn't make it life-size, just because _who the hell had that much candy_?

Quinn whipped her head around when Rachel tapped her cheek. Rachel was staring at her, smiling slightly. "What are you thinking?" she whispered.

Quinn shook her head. She'd pinned her hair back, so she was unnerved when it didn't flop around her face like usual. "I want to construct something out of movie theater candy."

Rachel's smile grew bigger. "A person?"

Exactly. Quinn didn't even need to explain herself.

"With Red Vines for arms?" Rachel continued.

Quinn just grinned at her. Rachel tilted sideways and leaned her head on Quinn's shoulder. Quinn wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. She sighed contentedly and reveled in the silence for a few minutes.

"I can't wait to watch you save the world." She whispered after a while.

Rachel rested a hand on Quinn's thigh and squeezed it through the dress. "I won't be saving the world." She scoffed lightly.

Quinn shook her head. Even if somebody helped one person at a time, or only one person their whole life, it was still saving the world. Everybody mattered. You didn't have to stop an asteroid from colliding with the earth to be a superhero.

Rachel was watching her intently.

"What is it? Do you have questions?" Rachel asked abruptly, tapping her fingers on Quinn's leg. Quinn blinked. "About earlier, I mean. What are you thinking?"

Quinn nodded immediately. She had lots of questions. Lots of things to say. She occasionally wondered why orange Tic-Tacs were still called mints. They were essentially candy. And what had they put in the mouth of the horse who played Mr. Ed to make it look like he was talking? Peanut butter?

Quinn would try that with the dogs when she got home.

"I'm just really proud of you." She said simply. "For your-your dance class and your students and how much you want to help people. You could be on Broadway right now, but you're…here. Doing all this."

Rachel just pushed her nose into Quinn's neck and squeezed her thigh again, humming lightly. "Because I know when I'm back on Broadway, _you'll_ be sitting in the front row and sending me flowers every night."

Well that was the truth.

Quinn groaned jokingly. "_Every_ night?"

Rachel chuckled. "Yes. It's your job."

Quinn smiled. She knew what she'd signed up for. The previews finished and the theater went dark, and Quinn put her own hand on Rachel's thigh and twisted around to kiss her. Rachel laughed. She obliged the kiss, but then squirmed away with a hand on Quinn's cheek.

"_Bear_. We have to watch the movie." She whispered.

Quinn shook her head and puffed out her cheeks and tilted forward to nuzzle Rachel's neck. She always smelled like flowers. Quinn pictured Bambi and berries and small woodland creatures. "No we don't." she murmured.

Rachel's breath hitched. "Yes. Yes we do."

Quinn's hand traced the hem of Rachel's dress, watching her wife challengingly. Rachel raised an eyebrow. Quinn's hand moved up her leg, tickling the soft skin. But she stopped about mid-thigh, tracing circles with her finger. Rachel's eyebrow dropped and she smiled softly.

"This is my job too." Quinn whispered. "But…later."

Rachel kissed Quinn's shoulder.

Quinn pulled her back into her side, dumped the box of Junior Mints in the popcorn, and settled down to enjoy the movie. She briefly wondered where popcorn could fit on her child made of candy.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: My chapters seem to be getting shorter. I'm trying to move this along to get back to New York, and then the story will pick up a bit.

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 10: As for the Clouds, Just Let Them Roll**

It would've been a nice drive, on another day. A different planet, a separate universe. An hour and a half from Davis to Modesto in the middle of March for Rachel's first Autism Speaks walk. They were surrounded by rich farmland, the skies were blue, traffic was clear, and Rachel was ready to drive off a cliff if it meant reaching the central valley faster.

But she had precious cargo sitting right next to her. With a dog in its lap and three more in the backseat.

At least it wasn't nearly as bad as the three thousand mile drive from New York to California. Now that had been _horrendous_. Distressing, harrowing, terrifying. But Char wasn't allowed in the cargo hold of commercial planes because of his nose, so it had been a necessity.

And Rachel loved her car. And it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

Now Rachel gripped the steering wheel and focused. She ignored Cornelius trying to climb up into the front over the center console, and she blocked out Quinn's protests and pleas with the dogs to just _sit down and look out the window_.

Pssht. That was far too tame for Rachel's dogs. If they weren't in the driver's seat or _flinging_ themselves out of the window, they weren't really living.

Quinn moaned and shifted Cloud around on her lap. He was far too big to be there, but he'd been chewing on the seatbelt so Quinn had brought him up front.

"I'm suffocating." She whined, shoving him against the door so that she could free a thigh from his fluffy, white fur.

"Twenty more miles, bear." Rachel said absently.

Don't drive off the cliff. Just don't drive off the cliff, Rachel told herself as something licked the back of her neck.

"_Barnaby_! Sit down." Quinn scolded, twisting in her seat to glare at him. She recoiled when Cornelius stuck his nose in her face. "_Seal,_ I will strap you to the roof!"

Well. He'd probably enjoy that.

Rachel chuckled a little hopelessly. She reached out a hand to palm one of Quinn's flushed, sweaty cheeks, and then turned the air up so that it was blasting onto her wife and the polar bear on her lap.

"I bet he could survive in the Arctic." Quinn mused tiredly. She ran her fingers through Cloud's fur and grimaced when it stuck to her hand. She waved it in Rachel's direction and sent white hairs floating through the air.

Rachel stared at her bluntly, drifting out of her lane for a second.

Quinn looked chastised. She tilted her head back against the seat and lifted her arms as far away from Cloud as possible, breathing heavily. Barnaby bounced up to investigate the hand that had meandered into the backseat.

"You turned off the oven before we left, right?" Rachel asked abruptly. "After you finished the cookies?" She probably should've checked an hour ago, but she'd been too preoccupied with the circus in her backseat.

Quinn hummed and nodded.

"And you made sure Butter was locked in the bathroom and the sliding door was closed?"

Quinn nodded again. "Yes, baby."

"And you locked the front door?"

"_Yes_, baby."

Rachel sighed. She waved her right elbow around because Cornelius was trying to climb into the front again. She needed to buy doggy seatbelts. Maybe she could get some that matched her interior.

"Okay. Good. Just checking so we don't get burgled while we're gone."

Quinn snorted and covered her nose with her hand. She got long white hairs in her mouth and on her face, and she pulled her hand away looking mildly disgusted. Rachel laughed.

"Burgled?" Quinn challenged, eyebrow raised. She blew air out of her mouth to get rid of the hairs.

"It's a word." Rachel assured with a smile.

Quinn nodded. "I know. It's a funny word." She commented. Then she sneezed twice, craning her neck away from Cloud.

"Ten more minutes, Quinn." Rachel stated. Quinn looked like she was seconds from a heat stroke. "We'll bring Cloud with us when we visit the bears in the Arctic. He can go live with them."

Quinn laughed. Rachel reached over and dug under the white fur to squeeze her thigh.

"We can build an igloo and teach Barnaby and Seal how to be sled dogs." Quinn suggested, eyes bright. Their dogs would be the most useless sled dogs ever. "The cats would probably die though. From the climate or the killer whales. So we'd have to leave them here."

Rachel pictured chubby little Butter waddling around on a piece of ice and then getting swallowed by a whale. She grimaced. And then she laughed.

"Are you ready for this?" Quinn asked as the farmland faded into suburbs and then downtown Modesto. "Awake? Energized?"

Rachel smiled. "I feel wonderful. "

She just needed out of the fucking car.

"Are _you_ ready for this?" Rachel asked, glancing at her wife. "It'll probably be a little more crowded since I'm leading the walk."

And who wouldn't flock anywhere just to catch sight of Rachel Berry? Rachel had talked over what to say and do with Tina, and she was fully prepared for the crowds. But every experience with Quinn was different. Like tossing a penguin into a pool and not knowing if it would belly-flop or dive in smoothly.

Penguins were usually smooth. But they could flail if caught off guard.

If Quinn belly-flopped, Rachel could just talk about penguins. That would help.

"I'll be good." Quinn promised. "I'll focus on these guys." She twisted in her seat to see Cornelius licking the smudgy back windows and a woozy Charizard trying to sleep. Barnaby clambered over to her as soon as he saw he had her attention. Quinn shoved him back.

Rachel parked around the corner from the park where the walk was occurring. She pulled out two bright blue t-shirts that said "Walk Now Central Valley," and her phone so that she could call the event coordinator.

Their star had arrived.

~oooooooooo~

"How was the drive over, Rachel? From Davis, right?"

Rachel smiled brightly at the camera and nodded. She pointed off to the side where Quinn was being pulled in four different directions by the dogs, and the cameraman swiveled around to get her in the shot.

"I brought my circus today." Rachel said with a laugh. "But the drive was beautiful. I'm very excited to be here."

She focused on the local news anchor and his camera, instead of the various paparazzi and press being held back by security a few yards off to her left. It was definitely crowded. A sea of bright blue where half of the participants seemed hell-bent on mobbing Rachel. Rachel felt a little light-headed. She made sure to keep an eye on her wife.

Quinn had kneeled down now, wrapped up in the leashes. A lower center of gravity would make it harder for the dogs to drag her around. Rachel smiled at her sympathetically and turned back to the interview.

"And we are very excited to have you in Modesto!" the anchor proclaimed. Rachel clasped her hands together under her chin and grinned at the camera. "So Rachel, what inspired you to get involved with Autism Speaks?"

Rachel hummed. She tilted her head to think for a moment, even though she didn't need to. Tina had told her how this would go. Rachel was not about to drag Quinn into any spotlights. Their _dogs_ might do that, physically, but Rachel wouldn't.

"Somebody close to me has an autism spectrum disorder," Rachel started, "and as I learn more about it, I'd like others to do the same. I thought coming out to a few of these walks would be a fun way to spread awareness."

The interviewer nodded agreeably. "And do-"

He cut himself off when there was a scuffle off to the side. Rachel turned to find Quinn on her knees, one arm twisted behind her with three dogs, and the other across her body with Barnaby at the end. Barnaby was trying to pounce on a small child.

Rachel rushed over and grabbed his leash. The camera followed her. She helped Quinn stand up, brushed the gravel off her knees, and gave her a quick kiss.

"Are you alright?" she asked quietly, discreetly looking Quinn over. She tried to turn Quinn around but her wife wouldn't budge. "Is your arm still in its socket? Because there's a first-aid tent-"

"I'm fine, Rachel." Quinn murmured, winding the other leashes securely around a hand. Her face was red, and she was watching her feet, and Rachel ducked to meet her eyes and nodded slowly before stepping away to lure the cameras off Quinn. The news camera followed Rachel as she stopped in front of the little girl Barnaby had tried to jump on.

Rachel knelt down holding his collar securely, and smiled at her warmly. She held out a hand. "Hi! I'm Rachel Berry."

The little girl swallowed and shook her hand, eyeing Barnaby warily. Every single camera was fixed on them, but the girl's blue eyes were fixed on the dog's.

That's usually how it went. If the dogs weren't in sight, they were probably doing something destructive or disgusting. Eyes on them at all times.

"This is Barnaby." Rachel introduced. The little girl held out her hand, and Barnaby gave her his paw.

Rachel's eyes widened. _That_ was new. She was shocked. Flabbergasted. She turned around to find Quinn beaming with excitement. Or pride. Maybe "dance" wasn't their dog's only trick anymore. Barnaby panted obliviously and shoved his golden head into the little girl's hand.

"He's never done that before." Rachel remarked with a warm smile. "He must like you!"

The girl still wouldn't look at Rachel, but she stared at Barnaby seriously.

"He has very large feet." She stated clearly.

Rachel didn't miss a beat. "Oh, I know." She nodded sagely. "They're as big as yours!"

She watched the girl stroke Barnaby's head three times and then pull her hand back and rub it against her shorts. The guy behind her leaned over with his hand on the girl's shoulders.

"Amanda, would you like an autograph from Mrs. Berry? Remember when we went to see her sing?"

Rachel smiled at the guy's kind eyes. She glanced behind her for a second to make sure Quinn hadn't been carried away by the animals. Quinn was standing there quietly with three perfectly behaved dogs, watching Rachel with adoring eyes.

"I want a dog." Amanda remarked, never taking her eyes off Barnaby.

Rachel was not offended in the least. "Well, if my wife wasn't so attached to ours, you could take them off our hands." She said with a chuckle. Rachel was surprised when Quinn appeared next to her, crouching down and eyeing Amanda and her father. Maybe she'd swooped in so that Rachel wouldn't hand away their animals.

"You should adopt one." Quinn stated, eyes sparkling with the possibility that somebody _else_ might be getting a dog.

Rachel smiled at her wife.

"Yeah?" Amanda's father asked, eyebrows raised. "We were thinking a golden retriever might be nice for Amanda. What do you think?"

Rachel sat back on her heels. Quinn had this. Quinn could talk for _hours_ about this. Even to a stranger, because she was surrounded by dogs.

"Oh, definitely." Quinn agreed, rocking forward onto her knees. "Goldies are-are very laid back, very friendly. Also Labradors. And those breeds love to swim _constantly, _just lots of fun. Beagles are great for really small children, and-and, um, if you have a lot of energy, border collies and Aussies are super friendly as well. They're all-they can be-they can all be somebody's best friend."

Quinn rolled over her words a little but Amanda and her dad were fixed on her face.

Quinn glanced at Rachel and kept going. "They're-they're very tactile as well. Tolerant of a lot of touching, pulling, shoving. They listen. Or they _pretend_ to listen. I-I grew up having conversations with a dog named Apple when I was little."

Rachel poked Quinn in the side, smiling at the memory of meeting the little white terror.

She hoped he was still alive.

Amanda was still rubbing her hand on her shorts. Barnaby pushed his face into her and she stopped to pet him again. Quinn bounced on the balls of her feet and grabbed Char's back to keep from falling over. Rachel glanced at her watch. The walk was supposed to start in ten minutes.

"I don't like his nose." Amanda stated bluntly, staring at Charizard. "I want one like him though because of his eyes."

Everybody who met Charizard wanted one like him. His eyes were hypnotizing.

"Some…people were mean to him, so his nose is a little odd." Quinn explained quietly. She rubbed a hand up Char's red back. "But he's the sweetest. And he's very handsome. He snores a bit, but he's the only one of our dogs who doesn't eat the mail, so…we just love him."

Amanda bit her lip. Her eyes flickered from Char to Quinn, and then back to the dog. "Yeah. I want to rescue one like him." She stated resolutely, tugging on her dad's hand.

Quinn Berry-Fabray, saving animals at autism walks every day. Every chance she got. Cloud shifted and knocked her so that she was sitting on the ground, and she seemed to suddenly realize that all eyes were on her after her little pitch to Amanda. She shook her head around, and Rachel stood up abruptly.

"I hope you find the perfect dog, Amanda." Rachel said with a warm smile at her and her father. "And I hope I meet him soon at another event."

Amanda's eyes met Rachel's for a fraction of a second, and her lips quirked up, but that was the most Rachel was getting. She waved goodbye and smiled brightly at the camera, and then wrapped an arm around Quinn and moved towards the starting point of the walk.

Quinn was winding the leashes around her fingers repeatedly. Rachel leaned up and kissed her cheek. She would not let this turn into a belly-flop.

"Tell me about penguins, bear."

~oooooooooo~

Rachel walked next to Quinn for the first two miles. She held onto Barnaby and Char and waved at the crowds lined up along the path, chatting to people who approached her and occasionally doing little dances to the loud music that was playing.

And then after another quarter mile, the heat hit and the whole mob of walkers seemed to slow down. Because Rachel slowed down, and she was the one leading them.

Who the fuck had suggested she lead a 5k?

She reached up to Quinn's nose to rub in a blob of sunblock that had been missed. Quinn scrunched up her face but let Rachel do it. They'd have some lovely tan lines tomorrow.

"You got it in my mouth last time." Quinn whined through closed lips.

Rachel scoffed. She purposely swept a thumb across Quinn's bottom lip and smiled when she was shoved lightly away.

Rachel also kept watching the dogs to make sure they weren't dehydrating. They were panting heavily, and Char sounded like a drowned chainsaw, but none of them looked too exhausted.

Quinn had a portable water bowl for them. She didn't bring water for herself, but she brought it for the dogs. And fruit punch for Rachel. Rachel shared it with her.

"It's _so hot_." Rachel stated plainly, for the fourth time, wiping the sweat off her brow and keeping the smile fixed on her face.

Quinn hummed. "You know, Greater Roadrunners can run up to twenty-six miles per hour in the desert."

Quinn was probably suggesting they'd all be better off as Roadrunners right now. Rachel had to agree. She didn't know what an actual Roadrunner looked like, so she pictured the blue one with big yellow feet running away from Wile E. Coyote.

That's how she needed her legs to move right now.

"And jackrabbits have massive ears that let their blood cool as it circulates." Quinn added, tugging on one of Rachel's ears. "I don't think yours are big enough though."

Rachel chuckled. She swatted Quinn's hands away and eyed the side of Quinn's head. "But yours might be."

Quinn narrowed her eyes. She put her hands over her ears and puffed out her cheeks and stared straight ahead. Rachel laughed. She tried to pry away Quinn's hands, and then just swayed slightly into her side when she was unsuccessful. Quinn twisted her head and kissed her flushed cheek.

She watched Rachel carefully and finally dropped her hands. "Are you okay, little bear? Too hot? Should we stop?"

Rachel shook her head and waved at the crowds again. Quinn stopped abruptly, dragging Rachel back with her. She took the leashes from Rachel's hands, turned around, and leaned over slightly.

"Come on. Piggy-back, baby." Quinn coaxed.

Rachel rolled her eyes. She patted Quinn's back and pulled on her t-shirt until she turned around again. She would like to complete a 5K for once in her life without being carried across the finish line. She put her palms on Quinn's worried cheeks and smiled up at her wife.

"I can walk. I promise I won't pass out."

She would cross that fucking finish line on her hands and knees if it was necessary.

Quinn watched her carefully and nodded. Rachel had been hydrating all day. Replenishing electrolytes, reapplying sunscreen. Nobody was ever more prepared than she was. Except the people around her wearing fanny packs and huge hats with their small children on leashes.

Rachel imagined she'd have to leash her own children, considering who their parents would be.

"Dingoes eat kangaroos." Quinn stated randomly, like she was continuing a conversation. She handed two dogs back to Rachel and put an arm back around Rachel's shoulders. "And-and they regurgitate water for their cubs if they don't have the resources around them."

Rachel grimaced. She didn't think she was at _that_ point yet.

All that was playing in her head was "Maybe the dingo ate your baby!" from _Seinfeld_. Quinn was talking like they were trekking through the desert instead of a lush park in suburban California.

When they crossed over the finish line half an hour later, Rachel was the one escorting Quinn to the shade right outside the first aid tent and funneling blue Gatorade down her throat. Quinn looked sheepish and flushed and sweaty, and Rachel sat down next to her and squeezed her thigh. She watched some children pet the dogs, who had collapsed in fluffy heaps a few feet away.

She thought about buying them booties. The dogs, not the children. Then they wouldn't have to dance around like the ground was too hot for their feet. She could get them personalized, even buy some boots of her own to match.

And Cornelius wouldn't get any because he'd just eat them.

Quinn lifted Rachel's hair off her shoulders and held it out so she could fan some air onto the back of her neck.

Rachel sighed. "That feels good." She moaned, tilting forward and staring at her knees to cool off.

"Rachel, I want to do something." Quinn blurted out. She shook her own hair around and it stuck to her face. Rachel raised her eyebrows, holding up the Gatorade for Quinn to sip. Quinn ignored it.

"I want to…I-there's only-we-"

Rachel knocked her knee into Quinn's and held up the bottle again. Quinn took a drink, gulping loudly. And then a breath.

"I have-I have an idea for a…sort of _organization_ we could start. Or maybe just…lead off with a website." Quinn stated, watching Rachel carefully. "There are only a few major autism charities, and Autism Speaks doesn't really focus on the…the one-on-one, direct contact aspect of anything. They're more into fundraising and awareness, right?"

Rachel nodded, following Quinn's thoughts. Quinn's eyes flickered over to the kids playing with their dogs.

"And Apple was my best friend when I was little. I think-I think I learned to read because of him."

Rachel's nodding slowed. She tilted her head. She _had_ been following Quinn's train of thought.

"So maybe others can too. Not just with dogs, but…hippos and giraffes, zebras, lions, all kinds of zoo animals. And aquariums."

Nope. Rachel was lost. Quinn had thrown her. She waited for the words to come together.

"I want to create something like…like animals for autism. We can focus on animal rescue and personal contact with autistic children and adults. Even-even animal education, like when I'm a vet..." Quinn shook her head, bouncing the Gatorade on her knee.

Rachel smiled. Again, Quinn's excitement was contagious.

"I could-we could take children around the zoos and aquariums. Nobody ever took-took me to the zoo, but I watched the livecams and they calmed me down, and I want-I think we can help other people."

Rachel watched Quinn finish with a soft smile. This was the beautiful heart she was in love with. Reaching out. Moving out of her corner of the forest.

And she'd never heard of an organization that combined animal rescue with autistic awareness. Why not start one?

"And I'd want you to be the face." Quinn finished. She bit her lip and looked at Rachel expectantly.

"You'd-why me?" Rachel asked, surprised.

Quinn blinked. "Your face is my favorite." She said like it was obvious.

Rachel chuckled. "But if we did this, don't you think people would relate better if they knew the story behind it?"

Quinn patted her hands along her thighs.

"You're writing a book, bear. People will know your story eventually." Rachel reasoned.

Quinn nodded slowly. Rachel brushed back the blonde hair that stuck to her face and tucked it behind her ear. Cloud skipped over and put his head in Rachel's lap. His white, fluffy face now covered in mud.

"You can think about it." Rachel assured when her wife still hadn't spoken. She stopped Quinn's hands from bouncing along her legs. "But I think it's a great idea. From a sweetheart. You'll love helping people."

Quinn cleared her throat and bounced her feet in the grass. She leaned over and kissed Rachel, lips particularly soft because of the constant application of sun-protective lip balm. Rachel laughed against her mouth. She tasted like blue Gatorade.

"Are you thermoregulating yet? Hyperthermic?" Rachel asked brightly when she pulled back. Quinn was bright red, but that was probably just sunburn. Quinn shrugged and eyed the mud on Cloud's face.

Rachel shook her head immediately. "No, Quinn Fabray. You're not going rolling in puddles." She said, only half-joking.

Quinn laughed. She knocked sideways into Rachel's shoulder. "Not until we're old like elephants, right?"

Rachel nodded. When they were old like elephants, they could roll in all the mud they wished. But right now, Quinn settled for letting one of the kids dump a bottle of water over her head. On camera. Rachel knew that her fans would love her wife as they got to know her. Because she did things like that. And then shook her hair all over Rachel and pulled her in for a big, soaking bear hug.


	11. Chapter 11

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 11: Let's Get Odd, Baby**

Rachel watched Quinn eat with much amusement. She always did. Quinn ate like an excited puppy. Except now Quinn was grimacing like Rachel was the one forcing her to take huge bites of leftover vegan pizza. Quinn was perched on the counter wearing her pajama boxer shorts and a blue polka-dot bra. She'd gotten hungry halfway through getting dressed.

Rachel wondered if she was _trying_ to look so disgusted with the food. Like she was on Fear Factor. Quinn picked the onions off and flicked them into the sink, eyeing the rest of the pizza suspiciously.

"You know, you can be normal for a day and have some eggs, bear." Rachel stated wryly. She'd taken the time to get dressed. The extra _three_ minutes.

Quinn shrugged, mouth full of food, heels knocking against the cabinets. "Pifwa's bebba."

Rachel hummed. Pizza was better. Which is why Quinn finished off her double cheese pizza last night, and was halfway through Rachel's vegan mess this morning.

"You don't look like you're enjoying it." Rachel observed with a smile. She sidled up and stood between Quinn's legs, hands on her wife's knees.

Quinn locked her feet together around Rachel's waist. She swallowed before speaking, tapping Rachel on the nose with the pizza crust. "I scraped off the peppers, onions, olives, and those yellow things that look like corn."

Rachel scrunched up her nose. "So you're eating bread…with tomato sauce. In your bra and pajamas."

Quinn nodded. "And your weird fake cheese."

A glob of sauce dropped onto Quinn's chest and she pulled her head back and blew her hair out of her eyes to try and see it. Rachel wiped it away with her thumb. It was followed by another, and then another, and she finally just handed Quinn a paper towel.

"Why are you pulling funny faces if you like it?" Rachel asked, squeezing Quinn's thighs.

Quinn blinked at her. She smiled with her mouth full and Rachel grimaced. She knocked her fists into Quinn's soft thighs until she swallowed.

"It makes you laugh." Quinn explained, seizing one of Rachel's hands and unfurling her fingers until she could play with the wedding band.

Rachel leaned back in Quinn's leg trap and watched with a small smile. She'd had something to tell Quinn before her wife had ripped off her NYU t-shirt and gone sauntering into the kitchen for food. Quinn kissed Rachel's hand and took a bite of her pizza, gazing into brown eyes lovingly.

Rachel even loved how she chewed. It was very polite, mouth closed, but cheeks puffed out because she took large bites. Rachel got lost for a second before remembering the phone call she'd gotten that morning.

"Quinn, Tina called me earlier." She started.

Quinn nodded. She swayed Rachel from side to side with her legs.

"There are a lot of news outlets speculating that you're the _close friend_ who I was describing at the walk last week." Rachel informed. "Mostly because that whole interaction with Amanda was on camera…"

Quinn licked her lips, eyes locked on Rachel's. She waited expectantly. Rachel traced the skin right at the top of Quinn's pants.

"So we can do the whole 'no comment' thing," Rachel continued, "or…Tina thinks it's a good opportunity to tell people that you have Asperger's because of your website idea."

"It's more than a website." Quinn inserted quickly.

Rachel nodded. "Of course. And if you get to it sooner rather than later, well…Everybody will find out you have Asperger's anyway, so why not now? That was Tina's reasoning."

Quinn tapped her pizza crust against her lips like it was a pencil and she was thinking. She opened her mouth to speak and accidentally dropped it. The crust ricocheted off the counter and landed right at Cloud's feet. Rachel didn't even bother trying to stop him from snatching it up.

Quinn had probably done that on purpose.

"What do you think?" Quinn asked quietly, using both hands to play with Rachel's wedding ring.

"Whatever you want, babe." Rachel answered immediately. "People love you either way."

Quinn sighed. It was like she was staring into Rachel's soul. "Maybe…Yeah-I-Tina should confirm it."

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "Yeah?"

Quinn hummed. She dropped Rachel's hand and wrapped her arms around her waist instead. "I can help more people if they know." She said with a smile, patting the top of Rachel's butt. Rachel wiggled to get her to stop for a second. Quinn held on tighter.

"You're sure?" Rachel checked. Because it's whatever you want."

Quinn nodded resolutely, pulling Rachel closer to her. Rachel could see she was losing this battle. The battle to keep a conversation going while she was locked by Quinn's legs. Quinn planted a sloppy kiss on her forehead and she chuckled.

Her eyes drifted down to Quinn's polka-dot bra.

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Connecting the dots, little bear?"

Rachel looked up at her, feigning confusion. She lifted up her hands and placed her thumbs where she knew Quinn's nipples to be. "What-what are these dots? They don't feel like the rest."

Quinn snorted and covered her face. She tightened her legs, pressing Rachel against her so that she could kiss her. "Let's go find out." She proclaimed gleefully. She slipped off the counter, scooped Rachel up under the knees, and fumbled around all the animals as she made her way to the bedroom.

~oooooooooo~

Rachel woke up on Easter Sunday because something was kissing the back of her head. And then the cheek that wasn't pressed into the pillow. And then finally her ear. She lifted an arm up and flailed it off to the side, glad to find that it hit a human, not a dog.

Quinn kissed Rachel's cheek again and tugged on her shoulder until she rolled over. Rachel groaned and blinked up at her. She was dressed, which was surprising, and her headband matched her yellow dress.

It was like sunshine. Rachel was blinded for a moment.

"Rachel." Quinn whispered loudly, leaning over to peer into Rachel's eyes. "There are butterflies in the living room."

Rachel wondered if she was dreaming. She kept blinking as her mind cleared. She would not be surprised if Quinn had been breeding caterpillars in their living room. Quinn kissed her cheek and watched her with excited eyes.

"There are three." Quinn continued. "One looks like a zebra. One's bright blue."

Rachel palmed Quinn's face sleepily. She slid her hand down to cup her chin. "Did you put them there?" she asked thickly. They probably followed Quinn in through the front door like Snow White. Or Cinderella. They were her servants now. That was why Quinn was dressed. The butterflies had done it.

Quinn shook her head and held onto Rachel's wrist. "Come see, little bear."

Rachel moaned and flipped sideways into the pillow. She felt Quinn sigh. Quinn let go of her wrist and climbed off the bed. Rachel was almost asleep again when her wife came bounding back into the room. She settled back into her spot and held up a box, smiling brightly at Rachel.

Rachel focused her eyes on it.

It was a two foot tall solid chocolate bunny. A vegan bunny. It's ears were as big as Rachel's face. She started laughing into her pillow as soon as she saw it.

"Happy Easter, lovely." Quinn murmured, leaning over and kissing Rachel's smile. "Je'taime ma chèrie."

Rachel flushed and sat up and took the box to examine it. "Did you get one for yourself as well?"

Quinn nodded. "I had to order yours though."

Rachel didn't think there would be an abundance of solid chocolate vegan rabbits in stores. She admired Quinn's perseverance. She'd wanted her wife to have a chocolate rabbit, so she'd made it happen.

"And mine has mini eggs in it." Quinn described. "It's also taller than yours, but it's hollow, so-so I thought it was fair."

Rachel hummed. It was very fair. She had enough chocolate to last a few years now. Her bunny was bigger than Benjamin. If Benjamin sat still for more than half a second, and stuck his ears straight up, she might actually get them confused.

It's probably why Quinn brought him home in the first place.

"How much of yours have you eaten?" Rachel asked knowingly, eyes smiling.

Quinn faltered. It wasn't even nine a.m. yet. Her eyes darted around for a second before she started playing with Rachel's fingers. "I-just-just an ear."

"Just an ear." Rachel echoed, eyebrow raised.

Quinn's lips quirked up. "And part of his face because it-it fell off and I didn't want it to get lost inside his body."

Rachel laughed. That was a good reason. She sat up and gave Quinn a hug, toppling into her lap when she lost her balance. Quinn held her there and kissed her head.

"I made you an Easter egg hunt, and then I thought we could decorate eggs, and then go to church in the afternoon. I know they'll let you sing something." Quinn said into Rachel's hair.

Rachel sunk into her. She was nice and cool against her sleep-warm skin. And she smelled like chocolate and Skittles.

"Show me the butterflies first." Rachel requested. She tried to roll out of Quinn's lap, but she just got sucked back in. Quinn slid off the bed with Rachel in her arms, ignoring her laughter and cries, and carried her out to the living room. She deposited Rachel on the couch and then plopped down next to her, welcoming Jelly into her arms.

Rachel saw two butterflies perched on the television and another on the back of the loveseat. She was transported back to the pigeon adventure in their first apartment in New York. She ignored the urge to run and hide in a small enclosed space.

Quinn winked at her. "I don't think we'll need mops and socks to get rid of these." She remarked.

Rachel chuckled and knocked their shoulders together. "Did you leave the window open _again_?"

"No." Quinn answered confidently, smiling when Jelly rolled over so that she could rub her tummy. "They just appeared."

Maybe they had a caterpillar colony in their walls. That would be a little disgusting. Rachel didn't know if caterpillars actually lived in colonies. Like termites? Were they solitary? If they did, they could turn their house into an indoor butterfly garden. Cornelius was already dead-set on capturing the one perched on the love seat.

"We can herd them out later." Quinn reasoned. "But I want to make you breakfast now while you hunt for your eggs."

Rachel did a quick scan of the room. Either they were very well hidden, or a dog had eaten them all. Rachel narrowed her eyes at Quinn.

"Do I just…_go_?" she asked, waving her hand vaguely through the air. "Or-"

"No. I'll give you clues." Quinn assured. She looked very pleased with herself.

Rachel stood up and stretched her arms above her head. This might require some climbing. Maybe some acrobatics. She knew what Quinn was capable of. Quinn poked her in the belly button when her shirt lifted up.

"Okay, first clue…" Quinn said, dragging it out to build suspense. She stared at Rachel until Rachel made a whirling motion with her hand to hurry up. Quinn grinned. "Twirl around Piglet, step lightly Pooh, this silly 'ole dance is perfect for two."

Rachel smiled. She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head in thought. Quinn bounced the orange cat on her knees while she watched. Rachel moved towards the iPod dock, eyeing Quinn the whole time. It was the source of most of their music. Quinn's head moved only slightly and Rachel halted her steps.

She needed the "warm/cold" game.

"Is it-Do we have a Dean Martin record?" Rachel asked, surveying the room again. "In the Misty Moonlight? Or…Step in Time, from Mary Poppins?"

Quinn shook her head. She held up her index finger wordlessly. Which either meant "stop," or number one. Or up. Or "look, I have a ladybug on my finger." But there was nothing there, so Rachel ruled that out.

She tried to remember dancing with Quinn for the first time. Number one. Rachel could see her wife dancing around on the coffee table in their first apartment. Doing the running man, falling into the wall, attempting the worm. Spinning Rachel and Barnaby.

"Daylight" by Matt & Kim.

Rachel held up a hand at Quinn and went running into the office. She scanned their stacks of old CDs and completely removed the "M" section. There was a bright blue plastic egg. Rachel squealed in delight and ran back out to the living room.

"I found it!" She proclaimed proudly, draping herself over the back of the couch to show Quinn.

Quinn laughed and wrapped an arm around her neck and kissed her smile. "Now open it, little bear."

Rachel twisted the blue plastic apart. Inside was a slip of paper with the letter "I" written on it in Quinn's green pen. Rachel flipped it over and examined the inside of the egg. There were no other clues.

"Are we spelling something out?" she asked excitedly, bending back down and pressing her nose into Quinn's cheek.

Quinn shrugged nonchalantly, still running her hands through Jelly's fur. "Clue number two." She started. "If bears were bees, they'd build their nests at the bottom of trees."

Rachel ruffled Quinn's hair. Quinn ducked her head and Rachel rested her chin on top of it. "I'm sensing a theme here." She stated.

Pooh Bear was always a theme though. Quinn could work him into anything. She reached up and patted Rachel's cheek. "We don't have all day, little bear."

"Do I have to go outside?" Rachel asked knowingly. There was an oak tree in their backyard. Quinn had once talked about how fun it would be to live like Tarzan. Rachel said she'd live in the lower branches and hang around like a sloth while Quinn monkey-swung through the trees.

Rachel knew she'd be climbing a tree today. Quinn shrugged, smiling mischievously. Rachel heaved an exaggerated sigh and walked towards the sliding glass door. She hoped the people in the apartment next to them weren't looking out their door. They shared a yard, and they'd seen Rachel make a fool of herself plenty of times.

Cloud bulldozed his way past Rachel and squeezed through the door before it was even open. Rachel strode through the grass in her bare feet, going straight to the tree. She pulled herself up on the lowest branch and smiled at the neon green egg lodged into a crook in the trunk.

At least she wouldn't have to scale a redwood today. Yet.

Barnaby and Cloud jumped all over her when she got back down because it was a possible toy that she held in her hands.

There was a picture of a heart inside. Rachel didn't know where this was going yet, but she loved it.

The next clues, all Pooh Bear quotes, led her to the cookie jar and the dog beds and Benjamin's food bowl, and then to a pocket of one of her old dresses and Quinn's book collection, the yoga balls, a box of waffles, her Funny Girl DVD, and then finally Pooh Bear. He was sitting on the bed, and the egg was under his jumper.

It had an "h" in it. Quinn had spelled out "I heart you. So much." Rachel kneeled on the bed with her hand over her face, trying to contain herself. Reel it the fuck in. Quinn came into the bedroom and turned her around gently so that she sat with her legs over the edge.

Quinn smiled at her and kissed her forehead. She held out another egg, bigger than the rest, and Rachel took it with a shaky hand.

"What are you doing?" she choked out tearfully. She was smiling so widely she couldn't see straight.

Again, Quinn just shrugged. She sat next to Rachel and tapped her thigh, nodding at the egg.

Rachel twisted it open. There was a note inside, and she tried to hold it still enough to be able to read it. In lopsided handwriting that dropped down the unlined page, it said "Little Bear. This is nothing special, but you deserve it always. I just wanted to be sure of you."

There was a little elephant drawn at the bottom, modified slightly to look like a Heffalump.

Rachel twisted to bury her face in Quinn's shoulder. Quinn chuckled and rubbed her back. "There's _more_, baby. Let's open the whole egg before we break down, okay?"

Rachel garbled into Quinn's neck. She pulled back, breathing deeply, and plucked a small box from inside the egg. She briefly wondered if she was being proposed to again. It was exciting her, for some reason. She knew she'd say yes though.

It's already fucking happened, Rachel. Focus.

Rachel flipped open the box to see a pair of dangly silver earrings. They were gorgeous, and Rachel twisted right back into Quinn when she saw that they had rabbits on them.

Quinn grunted with the force of the hug. "You like them?" she checked with a laugh.

Rachel nodded vigorously. She kissed Quinn, all lips and teeth and tongue.

"I almost-I almost got you a real bunny." Quinn admitted when Rachel finally let her go. "But I'm glad you like this. The-the dogs found three of my eggs this morning so I had to redo them before you woke up."

Rachel sighed, arms wrapped around Quinn's waist. "I love it all."

Barnaby bounced up onto the bed and seized the empty plastic egg with his mouth.

Quinn shoved him away with her foot and twisted to see Rachel's face. She didn't say anything. But Rachel met her gaze and Quinn just smiled fondly like that was all she needed.

~oooooooooo~

Rachel let Quinn out of her sight for sixty seconds after church. One minute. Rachel went to get the car started because it would feel like an oven by now, and Quinn stopped at the bathroom.

_Sixty seconds_. It was all it took for Quinn to obtain a Dalmatian.

Quinn walked towards the car, biting her lip and holding a basket that very clearly held a puppy. A Dalmatian puppy. Rachel's eyes got narrower and narrower as Quinn approached.

She built up her resolution right away. _No_. She would say _no_. Quinn had to know this after the whole chicken bone fiasco. Maybe she was blinded by the puppy's wide blue eyes, and the faint gray marks on her coat that would eventually become spots.

Rachel was just groaning and whining internally as Quinn opened the driver's door and slid into the seat, basket on her lap. She looked at Rachel with honest hazel eyes, but didn't say anything. Rachel stared at the puppy.

How the fuck had Quinn procured it in sixty seconds?

It started panting because the car was still too hot, and Quinn turned up the A/C. The puppy blinked curiously at everything around it. It stood up, toppled over a little, and then stuck one foot out of the basket. Rachel put it back in.

She didn't need the puppy imprinting on her car. Forming attachments.

Quinn had no such qualms, because she picked it out of the basket and pressed its white fur against her face, puffing out her cheeks.

Rachel started shaking her head.

Quinn held the puppy against her chest. It licked her neck. "Somebody left her here this morning. In an Easter basket." She explained. "The pastor can't have dogs so he was looking for somebody to take her home."

"So you volunteered?" Rachel asked in a pained voice. She tried not to smile when Quinn scrunched up her face because the puppy was pawing at her nose.

Quinn set her back in the basket, but kept a hand on her head. She looked at Rachel seriously.

"No." Rachel said before Quinn could speak. "No, bear. We can't have-"

"I know. I know." Quinn interrupted, nodding at Rachel. "We don't need any more animals. I thought-I thought we could foster her until we find her a home."

Rachel thought about that. It seemed like a good idea, but there was always the chance they'd end up keeping the puppy anyway after only searching half-heartedly for a home. Rachel sighed and watched the puppy blink rapidly into the air from the vents.

"We've never had a girl dog." Quinn remarked, tickling the gray spots on her coat.

Rachel laughed shortly. "Quinn, we don't have a quota to fulfill."

Really, there wasn't much variety in their dogs. They were all huge, fluffy, male monsters. Solid colors, except for Cornelius. Rachel would like to see some spots around the apartment. She had never actually seen a Dalmatian in real life. They were like dinosaurs to her. Friendly leopards.

"Have you named her?" Rachel asked knowingly, lips quirked up. It had been a few minutes since Quinn had procured the puppy. She must have a name already.

Quinn flushed. "I…Look, Rachel. Sam said he'd like a dog. I thought we could give her to him. So I called her Penguin."

Rachel smiled. Quinn tugged on the puppy's ears. They were both black. "She's black and white. And Sam likes penguins, so…"

Quinn trailed off and looked at Rachel expectantly. Rachel grabbed Quinn's ears because Quinn was still holding Penguin's.

"You're sure you don't want to trade her for Cornelius?" Rachel checked. Just to be sure. "They're both black and white, Quinn, so maybe no one would-"

"Stoooooppp." Quinn whined with a smile. "No. Sam can have her. He's coming up for my birthday soon."

Rachel tilted her head. Penguin made a sniffly noise and Quinn tapped her pink nose. "You'll be attached to her by then." Rachel predicted.

Quinn shrugged, gazing at the puppy with a small smile. "She'll have an amazing home. And I can-I can still visit her. And I _know_ we can't have her."

Rachel was going to say "until one of our other ones dies," but that would just make Quinn sad. It actually made Rachel sad a little as well. Barnaby was already seven. But nobody would be able to tell without seeing the white whiskers on his face.

Rachel watched Quinn tickle Penguin's chin. "Let's go to the zoo." She suggested impulsively.

Quinn looked up at her with wide eyes. She sat forward in her seat and bounced her knees. "You-Really? Right now? To Sacramento?"

Rachel laughed and nodded. She was feeling impulsive. Easter made her think of yellow dresses and animals. Which was basically Quinn. And the zoo. "We can drop Penguin at home and be there in half an hour." She stated.

Quinn looked excited. "They-they don't have bears. But they have lions and tigers."

Rachel didn't know who Quinn was informing, but she laughed and nodded. She watched her wife bounce around and run her hands over her thighs. Quinn's smile was splitting her face in half.

"Need me to drive, baby?" Rachel asked, taking the basket in her lap. Quinn watched the movement. She had to be sure of her temporary Dalmatian.

"I-no. No." Quinn shook her head. "Let's go."

They dropped Penguin off at home, shutting her in the office with the amicable Char for company. The other dogs might be too intense for her at this point. They were too intense for _Rachel _and she was twenty-seven years old.

Quinn took Rachel straight to the tigers. She bought Rachel cotton candy because it was Easter, and settled down on a bench to watch the sleeping cats. Rachel had gotten used to watching sleeping zoo animals by now. She found it very relaxing.

Her dads used to fill the house with chocolate eggs on Easter, but they didn't actually celebrate it, obviously. Rachel's first Easter egg hunt was this morning. Courtesy of Quinn.

Rachel hugged Quinn's arm and leaned into her shoulder. Quinn was smiling to herself because one of the tigers was slowly waking up, yawning widely.

"Did you have lots of Easter egg hunts when you were little, Quinn?" Rachel asked curiously.

Quinn turned to look at her, touching a finger to Rachel's rabbit earring. "Only one, I think."

"Yeah?" Rachel smiled. "Did you have clues like you gave me?"

Quinn shook her head. Rachel brushed her blonde bangs out of her face. "It was when I lived with all the other kids. They found all the eggs before me." Quinn admitted easily.

Rachel frowned up at her. She imagined a horde of rowdy children stealing candy from little Quinn.

Quinn chuckled at her expression. "Little bear. It was a long time ago. Now I have-I have all the chocolate I want."

Rachel wanted to ask her if she wanted more. Rachel would get more chocolate for her. She'd get her baskets upon baskets of eggs if she asked. She'd hide them around the house and give Quinn clues and hurt anybody who tried to take them away from her.

"I did sit on an Easter bunny's lap once, though." Quinn remarked, kissing the side of Rachel's head.

Rachel's lips quirked up. "A real rabbit, right? You sat on a rabbit?"

Quinn laughed and shook her head around, pulling Rachel closer. "No, it was a guy in a suit. And I think I started crying. I _wanted_ to see a real rabbit. A _giant _one."

"Like Benjamin?"

Quinn shook her head. "Like, ten feet tall, _giant_. It would be so much fun."

After it _killed_ you. Rachel poked Quinn in the ribs. "They don't make them in that size, bear."

Quinn gave her a pointed look. "They do in my head. And I ride them around."

Rachel snorted. Impulsively, she slipped off of Quinn and held her hand out for her wife. Quinn took it without hesitation. Rachel led her past the lions, dawdling a little bit so that Quinn could say hello, have a little conversation, and then came upon the snow leopard enclosure.

That wasn't what Rachel wanted. She spun on the spot to find the nearest gift shop and dragged Quinn in that direction. Quinn trailed after her happily, eyes shining with curiosity.

Rachel smiled when she saw what she wanted. She grabbed a giant stuffed snow leopard off the shelf, twirled around, and held it out for Quinn.

"Here." She said sweetly. "It's white with black spots, sort of, so he can replace Penguin when Sam comes. And you can call him Easter Egg, so that you can say I got you an Easter egg. If you want."

Quinn grinned delightedly. She wrapped her arms around Rachel and the stuffed animal, but she didn't actually reach Rachel because the leopard was so big. She just squeezed tighter, fingers grasping Rachel's upper arms, face pressed into the leopard.

"Aw ahh ooo." She proclaimed into the stuffed animal.

Rachel laughed from the other side. She let go and moved to stand next to her wife. "What was that?"

Quinn held the leopard with one arm and rested her chin on its head. "I said I love you. Very happy Easter."

"Very happy Easter to you as well." Rachel returned.

Quinn stared at her adoringly over the stuffed animal. "Let me get you one too." She brushed a strand of Rachel's hair behind her ear and then turned to survey the wall of plush toys. Her eyes widened and she took half a step back because there were _so many_.

"You've gotten me enough, Quinn." Rachel assured, trying to drag her towards the cash register.

Quinn turned herself into dead weight and leaned backwards. "Are you sure? I can get you a lion like Fuzzy, only ten times bigger. Or a tiger?"

Rachel kept laughing. Quinn lurched forward, catching Rachel by the arm when she fell backwards and smirking at the small victory.

"Well, I'm…I'll make you cookies when we get home." Quinn promised, picking up the miniature plastic statues Rachel had knocked over. "And I'll love on you and kiss on you and do my T-Rex impression if you want."

Rachel agreed. She loved the dinosaur impression. Quinn would pull her arms close to her sides, bend over, and then sprint around the living room, stomping as loudly as possible and making funny roaring sounds. Rachel had told many people that this occurred, and not a single one believed her.

Quinn the dinosaur was a rare sighting. Rachel's new goal was to get it on camera. But every time she'd pull her phone out, Quinn would stop and curl up on the couch, bright red and pretending she hadn't just done that. Maybe it was nice that Rachel was the only one allowed to see the "impression."

"This is the sun's birthday." Quinn said suddenly, pulling Rachel into her side as they exited the zoo. Rachel looked up at her. "This is the birthday of life and of love and wings, and of the gay great happening illimitably earth."

Rachel's smile was soft. She stopped by the car and waited for Quinn to continue. Quinn leaned against the door and looked up at the sky, squinting one eye like she was trying to remember.

"Wait, that's not how it started." She muttered, brow furrowed. Rachel smiled and waited patiently. It was a very nice day and she was content to stand outside and listen to Quinn recite poetry. She'd probably do it in a hurricane, but whatever. The sun was exceptionally beautiful today.

Or Quinn. Sometimes Rachel couldn't tell them apart.

"e.e. cummings." Quinn stated, smiling back down at Rachel. "I thank You God for most this amazing day: for the leaping greenly spirit of trees, and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes."

Rachel played with the trim on Quinn's dress. "I like that." She murmured.

Quinn nodded. She swung the stuffed leopard around so it banged into the car. "It's optimistic. It makes me think, what if the trees were a different color, you know? What if the grass was purple or something. But even if it was, it wouldn't matter, because it would seem _normal_, and we'd still be thankful for it because at least it's _color_."

Rachel's eyes watched Quinn's wander around in empty space. She smiled to herself. "Better than black and white, I suppose."

Quinn focused in on her and her hazel eyes sharpened. "Right?" she exclaimed, clutching Rachel's forearm. "It's all about new life and love and wings and colors and…and _yes_. Positive things. I think I love Easter."

Rachel was a little awed by this outburst. She felt like they should be frolicking through a spring meadow surrounded by lambs and daisies. She was standing outside a zoo with her girlfriend who was dressed as the sun and holding a giant stuffed leopard.

So, she was close.

"I'm glad we enjoy life." Quinn remarked absently, finally turning around to unlock the car. Rachel stared at her and moved around to the passenger seat.

"What do you mean?" she asked once they were both inside. She shoved the leopard into the back seat, amused by the fact that it took up the whole space.

Quinn fumbled with the headband in her hair, trying to fix it before just giving up and pulling it out. She handed it to Rachel with a smile and shook her fluffy hair free. Rachel rolled her eyes.

"I mean, some people don't." Quinn explained thoughtfully. "Enjoy it, that is. We don't…live every day like it's our last, but that's ridiculous. Because that would just _make_ tomorrow our last day. I'd probably get eaten by a polar bear. But we…I-I live every minute loving you with all my heart and laughing because of you and knowing that tomorrow I will wake up happy, and I will do it all again, and there's-there's not-other people-"

Quinn sighed and pressed her hands against her forehead. She looked at Rachel, lips curved in a beautiful pout. "I'm having articulation problems."

Rachel bit her cheek and tilted her head to the side. She had actually followed every minute of this conversation so far. It was a record.

"Illimitable." She proclaimed. Quinn blinked at her and Rachel nodded easily. "That's what you are. A happy heart. The sun can cheer you up, and you're lucky for that. And then you use it to cheer others, and you make them fall in love with the sun because that's what you are."

Quinn scrunched up her nose. "I don't think anybody else is in love with me."

Rachel shrugged and faced forward again. "You'd be surprised."

Quinn was silent for a moment, watching Rachel. Rachel turned back to her and smiled when she realized the car still hadn't been started.

"You're the same, right?" Quinn asked hesitantly. "There's not a minute you'd regret if we lost all the color tomorrow?"

It was such an odd way to phrase the question that Rachel just leaned back in her seat and stared at Quinn for a second. She finally just shook her head reassuringly. "There's not a single minute I'd give back. I'd challenge you to find a happier person."

Quinn grinned. "What makes you happiest?"

Rachel turned back towards the dash and tapped her finger against her chin thoughtfully. She did a little shoulder dance and smiled at Quinn.

"Well, music makes me very happy right now." She remarked honestly. "But mango smoothies might make me happiest…" She watched Quinn out of the corner of her eye, smiling at her expectant expression. "Also, that bubble bath that smells like apples and that new show on TV about Barbra's young life. Those make me happy."

Quinn's expression slowly fell until she was scowling and playing with the hem of her dress. Rachel faced her and leaned halfway over the center console until she was inches from Quinn's nose. She waited until Quinn met her eyes.

"But you make me happiest. Because _you _are the one dancing with me, and _you_ buy me mango smoothies, and _you_ take baths in the apple bubbles with me and sing along with the old Barbra songs with me. It's you, bear."

Quinn ducked her head, pressing her lips together. "I thought so." She murmured.

Pssht. Like there was ever any doubt.

Rachel chuckled quietly and ran a hand through Quinn's hair for a few seconds. "Can we go now?" she asked, louder than they'd been speaking. "I believe I'm melting. You could bake cookies on my face, baby."

Which would no doubt be a rewarding experience.

Quinn looked up, smiling silently. She leaned over Rachel to grab the seat belt and then plugged it in, making sure to graze Rachel's thighs with her hand. Then she kissed Rachel's cheek, brushed the sweat off her brow with her thumb, checked her rearview mirror to make sure Easter Egg was still in the back, and pulled out of the parking lot humming "Here Comes the Sun" by The Beatles.

Rachel sang out loud for the first chorus and Quinn dropped her voice comically about eight octaves to join her.

_Here comes the sun, little darling_

_Here comes the sun_

_And I say_

_It's alright_


	12. Chapter 12

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 12: If You Call My Name Out Loud**

Rachel reclined in her deck chair, soaking up the sun and watching Sam and Quinn splash around in the pool. They had the inflatable whale out, of course, and Sam couldn't seem to mount it without causing it to capsize. No matter how many times he jumped. Different heights, angles, distances. He'd seize the handles for half a second, grin triumphantly, and then nose dive into the water.

Rachel just reveled in Quinn's melodious laughter. It was birthday week, so Quinn had many reasons to smile.

Like the fact that the pool had a miniature waterfall. It also had a Jacuzzi, and Sam and Quinn liked to switch rapidly between the two, shocking their bodies with the temperature change. Because that was _fun_. Rachel rolled her eyes every time they ran past her and tried not to get splashed.

"Rach! Throw my quarters!" Sam called out, bobbing in the deep end with his hands in the air.

Rachel didn't move. She wondered where she'd put his quarters. Was that the money she'd used to buy the chewing gum?

"Come on, Rachel!" Sam continued, swimming to the edge. "I wanna see how fast I can retrieve them all from the bottom."

Where the fuck had she put those quarters?

"Not faster than me!" Quinn yelled from the other side of the pool. She was trying to haul herself back onto the whale. Sam took off in her direction. Probably to knock her back down.

Rachel sat up on her elbows and glanced around briefly. Towels, water, bags, cooler, chewing gum. She had definitely spent Sam's quarters in the vending machine. She rummaged through her purse to find a few pennies for him to use instead.

They were brown. They'd probably be better for seeing underwater anyway, right?

When Rachel looked back up, Quinn was stepping out of the pool. She half expected it to go _Sports Illustrated_ style. All golden glistening skin and slicked back hair, tossed around in slow motion. Quinn would emerge slowly, dripping profusely and smirking sexily in Rachel's direction.

But it was Quinn. She sloshed up the steps, tripping on the last one because her hair was in her face and Sam was wind-milling water at her. She caught herself on the rail, knocked her shin into the concrete, and then stumbled toward Rachel, dripping, smiling, and trying to adjust her sideways bikini top.

Rachel held up a hand to say "stop right there."

Quinn chugged right along. She strode up right next to Rachel and shook her hair out over Rachel's body. Rachel squealed and covered her face.

"_Quinn_!" she shrieked, slapping Quinn's thigh.

Quinn made a garbled noise of pain and laugher and jumped away.

"Rachel bear, there's a frog you have to come see." She stated with a wide smile. She bent over to rub her shin and her thigh, and Rachel noticed that her bikini top was still _very_ sideways.

The only other person in the pool area was Sam though, so at least Quinn wasn't flashing children. Impressionable infants. Sam seemed to be submerged at the moment. Hopefully he was alright. The whale drifted around like an abandoned ship in a horror movie.

"Baby, come here." Rachel demanded exasperatedly, wiping water off her cheeks and gesturing at Quinn.

Quinn eyed her uncertainly. "Don't-don't hit me again."

Rachel snorted. "Your boobs are falling out." She said bluntly.

Quinn just flushed and smiled brighter and shuffled up to Rachel. She kneeled down so that Rachel could readjust her top, throwing a little more groping in than was necessary. Quinn chuckled and shimmied her shoulders.

"Uh, what's going on over there?" Sam called out hesitantly from the far side of the pool.

Quinn gave him a thumbs-up with both her hands. All was well. Nothing to see. She stood back up, blocking the sun from Rachel's face. Rachel wrapped an arm around a toned thigh because it was _right there. _

"Now come see the frog." Quinn pleaded.

Rachel groaned. She used Quinn's thigh as leverage to heave herself to her feet. Quinn walked around the pool and led Rachel up to the edge. Rachel was just kneeling down when a body impacted her from behind. Sam's body. She never stood a chance.

Luckily, Rachel seized Quinn's arm to drag her into the water as well. If Rachel went down, Quinn would go with her. Willingly or otherwise.

She should've known there wasn't a fucking frog. She should've known not to fall for Quinn's pleas and puffed out cheeks. She just never fucking learned.

Rachel shrieked under the water and emerged sputtering and coughing, trying to swear and yell but choking on her words because there was no air in her lungs.

"QUINN!" She yelled when her respiratory system was functioning again.

Quinn was laughing. She was clutching Rachel in one hand to prevent her from drowning, and the wall in the other because Rachel was trying to drown _her_. Inadvertently, maybe. Sam swam underwater to the other end of the pool and laughed safely over there.

"WHAT THE HELL, QUINN!" Rachel yelled again, nose burning. Two could play this game. Quinn couldn't stand to have people angry at her, so Rachel would take advantage of that fact. For a moment. She'd just inhaled a gallon of chlorinated water. Quinn could handle this.

Quinn's wide smile looked a little uncertain now. "Wait, you're not really-"

"WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?" Rachel screeched. She grabbed the floating whale with both hands and swung it at Quinn's head. She could hear Sam drowning on his laughter, and she struggled to maintain an angry face. She was pretty sure there was snot coming out of her nose.

Quinn clung to the side of the pool and shielded her face. Rachel dropped the whale because it was making a loud sound against Quinn's head and Rachel didn't want to accidentally concuss her wife. With an inflatable Shamu.

"I'm sorry." Quinn whined loudly, looking a little distraught now. She watched Rachel with wide, wary eyes.

Rachel stared at her unblinkingly, breathing out of her mouth because her nose was _on fire_. She let her smile slip out when she couldn't hold it anymore. "You're so _mean_, bear." She remarked with a short laugh, pinching Quinn's upper arm.

Quinn swallowed. Her mouth dropped open. She looked like she was about to start crying. She pushed off the wall and wrapped Rachel in her arms, bouncing on her toes to keep their heads above the water.

"I can't-I can't-God, I hate you." Quinn murmured. "No, wait, I love you. I love you, I'm sorry."

Rachel laughed, prying herself out of Quinn's arms. "Next time there better be a god damn frog, bear." She warned.

"Ooh, a frog-bear." Sam laughed, swimming up behind Rachel. He obviously considered the waters safe now. Rachel spun around and sent a wave of water into his face with her arm.

"You, I do hate." She stated with a straight face.

Quinn shook her head. "She means love." She insisted sweetly. She pulled on Rachel's ear and slicked the dark hair out of her face. "Also, little bear, there is actually a frog. So come over here." Quinn tugged on Rachel's wrist and moved towards the other side of the pool

And Rachel went. Because she never learned. And Quinn's eyes were shining bright enough that she knew an actual animal was involved this time.

~oooooooooo~

Rachel was just barely suppressing the overwhelming urge to get up and sing "The Sound of Music." She seemed to find herself in this situation a lot. Except this time it was because she was sitting on a blanket in the middle of a large green field surrounded by hills.

Quinn had wanted a quiet birthday, like always. A picnic in the park with her wife, her dogs, and her friend. She eyed Rachel from across the blanket, dropping sandwich crusts into Char's mouth. Penguin sat next to her licking her toes.

"Do it." She said with a knowing smile.

Rachel laughed and shook her head. If she started now, she wouldn't be able to stop herself until she'd run through every song in the musical. It was like a disease.

"Wait, do what?" Sam asked, hurriedly swallowing his mouthful of macaroni. He thumped himself on the chest so he wouldn't choke.

"Sing. Rachel wants to sing." Quinn clarified, smiling at her wife. "I can see it in your eyes, baby. Probably 'The Sound of Music,' right?"

"Quinn. Eat your cookies." Rachel instructed sternly. She reclined on the blanket and stretched her arms above her head. Barnaby saw it as an invitation to play, so Rachel closed her eyes and covered her mouth while he snuffled frantically around her face.

"I can do it." Sam offered easily. "I know the, um. The yodel one. With the goats? I can sing that one."

"The Lonely Goatherd." Quinn supplied.

Rachel smiled. Quinn wouldn't have known that three years ago. Rachel's brain-washing was successful. She'd dragged a willing Quinn into her world of musicals until she knew everything there was to know.

"Can you yodel?" Rachel asked curiously. It was a skill Rachel hadn't practiced very much. Maybe she should learn. It would be a nice little niche to hold in the Broadway world.

Sam laughed loudly. Flecks of macaroni flew out of his mouth. "Nah, dude. But I can sing that song."

Rachel watched Quinn push Char away and drop her cookies back into the container. She moved onto her hands and knees and crawled towards Rachel, bulldozing right on over a bag of chips and half of Sam's sub. Sam made a noise of protest, and Quinn picked up his sub, reshaped it with her hands, and handed it back to him with a sweet smile. He grimaced.

Then Quinn continued on her quest until she was hovering right over Rachel, staring down at her and grinning brightly.

"Yes?" Rachel asked, raising her eyebrows.

Quinn bent her elbows and kissed her wife. She hummed and chuckled into Rachel's lips, ignoring the groans Sam was emitting.

"Sing for me, little bear." Quinn demanded when she pulled back. Her head blocked the sun. She was like an angel.

"Mmm, don't move." Rachel murmured. "You're my shade."

"With my big head." Quinn said sagely.

Rachel nodded. "With your big head."

"Please, Rachel." Quinn coaxed. "It's my birthday." She rubbed her nose because the spring air was making it itch and moved forward so that her face was only an inch from Rachel's. She went cross-eyed trying to maintain eye contact.

Of course Rachel was going to sing. Even if Quinn was begging her not to sing, she'd still sing because she just had no self-control. Especially when it came to "The Sound of Music."

Rachel put her hands on Quinn's cheeks and bobbled her head around. She eyed Sam to make sure he wasn't checking out her wife's ass. He was busy trying to prevent Barnaby from stealing Quinn's cookies.

Rachel heaved a sigh like she was being inconvenienced. She poked Quinn in the stomach to get her to move so she could sit up. She took a deep breath, watching Quinn from the corner of her eye.

"_High on a hill was a lonely goatherd, lay ee odl ay ee odl lay hee hoo_-"

"No, not that one!" Quinn protested, trying to clap a hand over Rachel's mouth.

Sam cheered over her. "Yeah! Keep going!"

Rachel tried, but Quinn's hand wouldn't budge. She pried it off of her mouth and stood up. Quinn lunged for her ankle and missed as Rachel bounced away, laughing loudly.

She cleared her throat, making sure both Sam and Quinn were watching her, held her hands out to the side dramatically, and started to sing.

"_The hills are alive with the sound of music, with songs they have sung for a thousand years."_

Quinn went completely still. She leaned back on her hands and watched Rachel with an adoring, captivated smile. Sam swayed along, one arm around Char, the other stuffing meatballs from his sandwich in his mouth.

Cornelius and Cloud came running back from the edge of the park to jump around Rachel's legs. She was standing up and making a lot of noise, so _obviously_ she wanted to play. She spun slowly around with the music, knocking the dogs with her knees a few times, or gliding straight into them. They took it as encouragement.

When Rachel was finished, she curtsied neatly in her skirt and then waved her arms around with a flourish. Quinn clapped loudly. Sam hooted. Quinn crawled up off the blanket and ran towards Rachel, arms open. She picked Rachel up around the waist and spun her around. Rachel laughed and tucked her face into soft blonde hair, clutching her wife's neck and keeping her feet off the ground.

Quinn planted her back on the ground and Rachel stumbled unsteadily.

"I want to direct a musical." Rachel proclaimed, not entirely sure of where that had come from. Quinn smiled her I-can-fit-a-watermelon-in-my-mouth smile.

"Next school year. I want to do _The Sound of Music_." Rachel continued, confidence in her idea growing as she thought about it. It would be an amazing opportunity to see how the "other side" worked. And she could use it to become an even better performer when she returned to the stage. She may go a little mad with power, but who doesn't sometimes?

She was a star. Her dictatorial tactics should be appreciated.

"Quinn, your cookies are melting." Sam called through a mouthful of something.

Quinn turned on her heel to rush back to them, but stopped abruptly and stared at Sam. "Cookies don't melt." She argued.

Sam glanced at Rachel and then back at the plastic container. He swallowed whatever he was eating. "Well, they're…evaporating or sublimating or something, dude. Condensing. Condensating?"

Quinn seemed to just block Sam out. She turned back to Rachel and put her hands on Rachel's waist. "I'll come see your play every night." She promised, eyes sparkling.

Rachel laughed. "You'll fail all your classes."

"Dude, seriously, your cookies are being evaporated." Sam stated urgently. "Get them out of the sun."

Quinn whirled around, stooped down to pick up her cookies, and threw the top off of the plastic container to rescue them. She stood back up and held one out for Rachel. Rachel shook her head. It looked like it had reverted back to its "dough" stage.

"You know, we're getting cake on the way home." Rachel remarked.

Quinn nodded easily. That fact didn't affect her eagerness to consume the cookies at all.

Rachel looked around. Barnaby, Cloud, and Cornelius had gone back to chasing squirrels over the grassy field. The _empty_ grassy field. Rachel felt like a horde of zombies would come up over the hill at any moment.

"Let's play a game." She suggested. Quinn straightened up immediately, like Rachel knew she would, and hacked a bit on her cookie. Sam bounced to his feet as well, stretching his arms around and doing a few squats like Rachel had suggested entering the Hunger Games.

"Monkey in the middle." Rachel offered.

Sam tripped over himself trying to grab the football on the picnic blanket to ensure he didn't become the "monkey."

"Not it!" He yelled, toppling sideways into Quinn's legs.

Quinn stared down at him with a raised eyebrow. She put one of her bare feet on his side and slowly applied more pressure. He rolled out from under her and stood up.

"Rachel can be it." He suggested, winking at Quinn.

Quinn shook her head immediately. "Rachel's too small. She'll never get it."

"Hey!" Rachel interrupted. She didn't know if she was insulted or indignant or pleased. She was perfectly capable of being the monkey, though. She could jump higher than both Quinn and Sam. She was like a flea.

She spun around and waved to all the dogs. "Hey, monkeys!" she called to them. They could be her helpers. Knocking Sam and Quinn down, distracting them, stealing the ball. This is where Cornelius got to shine. "We got this!" Rachel proclaimed, ruffling the ears of all four animals. Penguin was stuck fumbling around on the folds of the picnic blanket.

Arms circled around Rachel's waist and she spun around to find Quinn smiling at her.

"I love you, monkey." Quinn murmured, pressing her nose into Rachel's cheek.

Rachel chuckled. "_Bear_."

Quinn hummed. "Little polar bears can jump pretty far… Well, far _enough_. They jump around pieces of ice. I don't know if brown bears jump."

Rachel gasped exaggeratedly. "You don't _know_?"

Quinn scrunched up her nose at Rachel. She pinched Rachel's smiling cheeks. "I will-I will find out."

"People, hurry up!" Sam called, doing a few jumping jacks off to the side.

Quinn looked determined. Maybe a little unnerved that there was something about bears that she didn't know. Rachel tapped her cheek.

"How far can they swim?" she asked knowingly.

Quinn focused immediately. "Sixty miles non-stop."

Well. Rachel couldn't do that. But she could bounce around like a little bear. She herded her helpers over to Sam to start their game. Rachel caught the first ball Quinn threw. It was far too low, which was odd because Quinn was a pro at all games. Quinn was smiling though, and she wouldn't meet Rachel's eyes as she made her way to the middle.

Rachel caught her waist and kissed her cheek. What a sacrifice.

~oooooooooo~

Maybe bathing a frosting-covered Barnaby in the master bathroom was not such a good idea. Rachel leaned against the doorway and cringed as she watched. She didn't enter, though, because Sam and Quinn seemed to have the situation pretty well under control.

Well. Not _control._

At least nobody was crying or drowning. Barnaby had one of his back legs out of the tub, like he was trying to reverse his way over the edge. His tail had knocked over all the soap bottles and Sam had resorted to climbing into the tub with him. In his jeans.

Quinn sat on the toilet rubbing Barnaby's chest because it made him stand still. All the frosting was gone. Now he was just pretending that the tub was his very own lake.

Rachel waved the stack of envelopes she was holding in her hand to get Quinn's attention. She refused to step inside the bathroom.

"Hey, baby!" Quinn greeted, holding up a soapy hand. She quickly put it back on Barnaby's collar when he lunged sideways into Sam.

Never let your guard down. Barnaby would sense it.

"Come into the bedroom so I can give you your birthday present." Rachel requested.

Sam made a garbled noise, but kept his attention on the dog he was wrangling. "Dude! I don't need to hear that!" He protested, shaking his head and flinging water over the floor.

Quinn smiled brightly.

Rachel laughed. "No, not-" she held up the envelopes as an explanation. "It's something else."

Quinn eyed the envelopes. Sam waved her away.

"Go on, Quinn. I got Barnes." He assured.

Quinn didn't need to be told twice. She surged towards Rachel and pushed her backwards and past the closet until they hit the bed and toppled over each other. Rachel laughed and collected herself and settled cross-legged facing Quinn.

"Bear." Rachel said with a small smile, building anticipation. "_This_…is your fanmail."

Quinn blinked. She pushed her hair back and looked down at the mail and then back up at Rachel.

"We had Tina confirm you have Asperger's," Rachel continued, waiting until Quinn nodded. "And these are letters to you from my fans, _your_ fans, expressing thanks and love and inspiration, and…whatever else."

Hopefully nothing inappropriate. Rachel didn't want anybody being traumatized.

Quinn stared at Rachel, mouth open. Rachel chuckled and held out the envelopes.

"You're already inspiring people, Quinn." She stated, tapping Quinn's cheek with the mail when Quinn made no move to take it from her.

"They-they wrote to me?" Quinn asked quietly, disbelievingly.

Rachel nodded encouragingly. She hadn't been surprised when Tina had handed them over. She knew the world would fall in love with Quinn, just like she had. It was only a matter of time. Quinn would lure everybody into her trap and never let them go.

Rachel also got Quinn a photo album full of their animals, but this was just present wave number one. Or two, if the cake counted. Cake always counted in Quinn's book.

Quinn reached over the edge of the bed and grabbed Penguin before the puppy could bound into the bathroom and disrupt whatever disaster was occurring in there.

She settled the Dalmatian in her lap and opened one of the envelopes.

Rachel bit her lip as she watched the smile slowly spread across Quinn's face. Quinn looked up at her after a minute, eyes shining.

"She said-she said I'm her role model." She told Rachel, holding up the letter. "She's twelve, and she doesn't even know me, and I'm her _role model_."

Rachel nodded. Quinn rubbed her nose and smiled wryly at Rachel. "I don't know if I should be a role model."

Rachel shook her head immediately and planted her hands on Quinn's knees. "You are a good person. A kind and wonderful and inspiring person." She stated clearly. "And if I had never met you before, I would still want my future children to look up to somebody like you. You're a perfect role model, sweetheart."

Quinn pressed her lips together and played with Penguin's black ears. She was quiet for a minute, but then she looked up and smiled. "Of course the person who managed to marry you should be a role model. I don't-I don't know how I did it."

Rachel laughed and shrugged. She grabbed Quinn's free hand. "You just sucked me in, bear."

Quinn gazed at her for a moment. She set Penguin back on the floor because the bathroom door was now closed, which was a little ominous. Then she rocked forward, hands on Rachel's knees.

"I want to call it 'A Bear, A Star.'" She stated. She was doing that "staring into Rachel's soul" thing. Waiting for feedback or love or just watching her eyes.

Rachel clasped her hands together excitedly. "Your website?"

Quinn nodded, squeezing Rachel's knees. "Where animal rescue meets autism awareness."

Rachel bounced on the bed a few times. "I love that!" she proclaimed.

"Because…metaphorically, a bear can be with a star. Or a bear can _be_ a star. And people can rescue bears and become stars." Quinn explained. "And did you know Ursa Major is the Great Bear constellation? We're in the sky together, Rachel. Sort of a collision of worlds, slash interpretive 'take it as you want' meaning."

Rachel got a little lost in that explanation, but she got the gist. Bears and stars, animals and people, Quinn and Rachel. It made perfect sense. And it was perfect for Quinn.

Rachel had started a club in high school for aspiring performers like herself. She'd called it "Dreams on our Minds." Which spelled out "doom." They didn't really get much accomplished.

The only person who joined was Finn because Rachel had made it mandatory for him and nobody else was mature enough to appreciate her adolescent ambition.

"Abas" was better. It reminded Rachel of fish. Which could only be good.

"And I'll be the, um…_face_." Quinn explained, squinting in thought. "But I want Barnaby to be the image people associate with it."

Rachel listened and nodded along.

Quinn smiled at her. "Because that's what my _favorite_ face suggested I should do."

Rachel laughed. She surged forward and pushed Quinn down on the bed by her shoulders. She tickled along her sides, delighting in the laughter she was eliciting.

"No funny business out there!" Sam's voice called from the bathroom. He sounded a little out of breath. And then there was a thump and a bark and it went quiet again.

"I have to give you twenty-seven kisses, baby!" Rachel proclaimed loudly over Quinn's shrieks.

Quinn squirmed and nodded, red and laughing. Rachel leaned forward and pressed kisses to her forehead, cheeks, chin, and nose. Her hair fell into Quinn's mouth and Quinn sputtered to get it out.

"One, two, three, four, five." Rachel said proudly, pulling back and moving backwards down Quinn's body. "Six, seven." Rachel counted, kissing each of Quinn's shoulders.

Quinn watched her adoringly.

"Eight, nine." Rachel continued with both of Quinn's breasts. She glanced up at Quinn with a smirk. "_Eight, nine_." She repeated, kissing them again.

Quinn laughed. "I think-I think you skipped eight and nine." She offered helpfully.

Rachel nodded sagely. She definitely had. She kissed Quinn's breasts again. "Eight and nine." She patted them fondly before shifting again. She trailed three kisses down each of Quinn's arms.

"Sixteen." Rachel counted, flipping up Quinn's shirt to blow a raspberry on her abdomen. "Seventeen." She added when she kissed her belly button.

Rachel kissed Quinn's thighs, knees, shins, and feet. Then she crawled back up to Quinn's face and pecked her lips. "Twenty-six."

Quinn hummed. "One more." She said with a smile.

Rachel feigned confusion. She furrowed her brow and looked down at Quinn. "Really? I thought we were done. Did I lose count?"

Quinn stared up at her, narrowing her eyes. "What, no. One more!" she demanded.

Rachel heaved a sigh like she was being inconvenienced. "I guess I'll just have to _start over_." She moaned.

Realization dawned on Quinn and she grinned and nodded eagerly. She puckered her lips and pulled Rachel down on her in a bear hug. Rachel laughed and kissed her sloppily on the mouth.

"One."

~oooooooooo~

Sam left the apartment with all the dogs an hour later. He _insisted_ that he needed to take them on their evening walk by himself. But he winked at Rachel as he hurried out the front door, and realization dawned on her. Quinn was a little oblivious. Lying on the couch watching old music videos and talking to Butter about Bananarama and Bananas in Pajamas.

Rachel stretched her back, pinched her cheeks, and draped herself over the back of the couch to look at Quinn. Quinn kept conversing with Butter, so Rachel cleared her throat until the fat cat ambled away.

Quinn looked up at her with a smile. Her smile faltered almost immediately and her eyes dropped to Rachel's chest.

"Sam gave us some alone time." Rachel whispered with a grin, tilting forward to catch Quinn's gaze. She batted Quinn's hand away as it reached absently for a boob.

Quinn swallowed. "That was nice of him."

Rachel chuckled. "Yes, it was."

She watched Quinn for a moment. Quinn was completely silent, dressed in faded shorts and a t-shirt covered in white cat hair and staring honestly up at Rachel. Her eyes were twinkling and expectant. Rachel swayed a little bit to the Blondie video on the television and stared nonchalantly into space.

"Well, maybe we could-"

Rachel cut Quinn off by climbing over the back of the couch, or _rolling_ herself over, and pressing her mouth to Quinn's. Quinn's hands went straight to Rachel's thighs to hold her in place and Rachel delighted in the little gasps of surprise she received. And the laughter, because she kissed right under Quinn's ear and she knew it was the most ticklish point of her wife's body.

Quinn tilted her head to give Rachel more room. "This is-this is more than twenty-seven kisses."

Rachel kissed along her jaw and then whispered in Quinn's ear. "You can't limit my kisses, baby."

It would be like trying to spin the world the other way. Quinn shivered. "Super Freak" started playing on the TV, which Rachel found a little perturbing, but she rolled with it. The remote had long been buried under the cushions.

"Take-take off-" Quinn moved a hand up from Rachel's thigh to her butt, and gestured at the straps of her dress. She whined when all Rachel did was smile and kiss her again. Rachel chuckled. She ran her tongue along Quinn's teeth and trailed her hands up Quinn's sides.

Quinn's breath was hot on her face and Rachel knocked multiple pillows off the couch trying to reach as much skin as she could.

"Super Freak" finished and "I Want to Know What Love Is" started, and Quinn began grinding herself up into Rachel, and Rachel finally just sat up and rolled off the couch with Quinn's wrist in her hand. She didn't say anything, just because she had a purpose and Quinn would find out what it was soon enough.

Her lips were raw and she was vibrating and desperately trying not to sing along with the Foreigner song on TV.

Quinn stumbled along after her as she strode to the bedroom. She shut the door behind them and then pushed Quinn up against it, smiling at Quinn's sharp exhalation of breath. Quinn coughed and focused and allowed Rachel to help take off her t-shirt.

"How-how long did Sam say he'd be gone?"

Rachel shook her head. She couldn't remember that _now_. Rachel kissed and licked Quinn's collarbones, wincing when Quinn's head tilted back and thumped against the door. She put a thigh between Quinn's legs and held her in place.

"I wanted-I wanted, um…" Quinn shut her eyes tightly like she couldn't remember what she was saying. Rachel palmed her breasts over her yellow bra and she gasped. "I wanted to-to go with him to the lake to see if Penguin would like to swim."

Well that was nice of her.

Rachel hummed. Her mouth was a little busy. And Quinn was _really_ warm. On her face and her hands and her thigh.

"Dalmatians usually-they usually like to swim, but Penguin's only a puppy, so…" Quinn groaned and arched away from the door when Rachel licked a broad stripe right up her abdomen. "_Shit_, Rachel." She dragged out.

And Rachel froze. She looked up at Quinn with an incredulous smile. Quinn's bra fell to the floor and landed quietly. The only sounds were heavy breathing.

Quinn's ears were bright red. She opened her eyes and met Rachel's gaze, but then just shut them again and shook her head around.

"Sorry, I-I didn't mean-I shouldn't swear."

Rachel laughed lowly. She pressed herself up against Quinn so that there was no space between them and played with the hem of Quinn's shorts over the swell of her hips.

"_Baby_, swear all you want." She whispered. She could feel the shivers under her fingers. "I realize it's quite hard to find the words to express just how wonderful I am."

Quinn whined. She lolled her head forward so that it rested against Rachel's, and Rachel undid her faded yellow shorts and let them fall to the ground. She could hear "Come on Eileen" coming from the TV now. It was certainly peppy, though still a little unnerving.

Sex with eighties marathons in the background was definitely intriguing.

Rachel whirled Quinn around and pushed her backwards until she toppled onto the bed. And then she stood there for a second, just admiring her wife and her pale, smooth skin and curves and the light flush that covered her body.

And then Quinn held her arms out wordlessly, and Rachel crawled into them. She held up her weight with an elbow by Quinn's head and pushed into her firmly. Quinn's hands fisted in the sheets, and then in Rachel's dress, and then under Rachel's dress because Rachel was wearing far too many clothes.

"_Fuck_." Quinn murmured, barely audible. Rachel was thrilled. She'd turned her wife into a profanity machine for one night. She would've laughed, but she had better things to do.

Quinn inhaled deeply. Rachel watched her bite her lip and then leaned forward to kiss her. She still tasted like the chocolate frosting from her cake.

"This is-this is the best birthday ever, Ra-Rachel." Quinn stuttered, clutching Rachel's dress like a lifeline. "I love you so much."

Rachel smiled and sped up. She was straddling Quinn's thigh and inadvertently enjoying this as much as Quinn. She brushed the hair out of Quinn's eyes with her free hand and kissed her cheeks and her chin. And then Quinn wrapped all her limbs around Rachel and shuddered, and Rachel did the same with her face buried in Quinn's shoulder.

Quinn held her there for a good five minutes. Rachel was sweltering, and Quinn probably was as well, but she was _not_ letting go. Rachel managed to untangle herself for a second to pull off her dress before she was tugged back down.

Quinn traced a finger over her belly and kissed Rachel's forehead. "That's better." She murmured. "You're very soft and cuddly."

Rachel didn't know if she should be insulted or not. She curled up into Quinn's side, noticing that the music now coming from the living room was "Mr. Roboto." She mouthed the words against Quinn's warm skin.

"I want to go and see if Sam took Penguin to the lake." Quinn whispered a minute later. She was obviously eager, but trying not to disturb Rachel. Or make it seem like she was ready to leap out of bed just to go and watch a puppy swim for the first time.

Rachel tilted her head up and narrowed her eyes at Quinn. "_Right _this minute?" she asked, voice a little hoarse. "After what we just did, you want to drag us out of bed right now?"

Quinn puffed out her cheeks and pressed her face into the pillow.

Rachel chuckled and tickled her neck. "Are you hiding now?"

Quinn stayed completely still.

"Because you're naked, baby. And I could take advantage of you." Rachel poked Quinn's boob just to demonstrate.

Quinn made a muffled grumbly noise into the pillow. She wiggled her butt until it was no longer covered by the sheet, and Rachel found herself mesmerized.

"We can go watch the puppy swim if you want, Quinn." She conceded, absently reaching a hand out to palm her wife's glorious ass.

Quinn laughed into the pillow as soon as Rachel's hand made contact and her whole body shook. She lifted her head up, even more flushed than before, and nuzzled into Rachel's cheek. "Let's do that. Are you ready?"

Rachel nodded. "As long as you won't be flinging obscenities around with your dirty mouth, baby." She stated sagely. "We live near children, you know."

Quinn sat up abruptly, pouting and trying to hide the blush that ran from her cheeks down to her chest. She grabbed the _101 Dalmatians_ pillow and pressed it lightly over Rachel's face. Rachel snorted into the fabric and pushed it away easily, sitting up so that it landed in her lap.

All she saw in Quinn's eyes was mirth. And a little disgust that Rachel had slobbered on her pillow.

"You're still kind of sweet." Rachel assured, eyes shining. She leaned backwards to retrieve some of their clothes off the floor.

"_Kind of_." Quinn repeated, eyebrow raised.

Rachel nodded. She tilted forward to whisper conspiratorially as she pulled her dress over her head. "I know there's a badass buried in there. I'll dig her out, one romp at a time."

Quinn flushed even darker and pulled back immediately. She played with the sheet that was covering one of her legs and shook her head around, and Rachel watched her with a fond smile.

"Hey." Rachel murmured, waiting for Quinn to look up again. Rachel smiled at her when she did. "You're getting us out of bed to go watch a puppy swim for the first time. You're still the sweetest, bear."

Quinn mumbled something unintelligible before putting on the sweatshirt Rachel handed to her.

"What was that?" Rachel asked, leaning forward until she was only inches away from Quinn's face.

Quinn played with her sleeves and met Rachel's warm brown eyes. "I said _you're_ the sweetest. Not me."

Rachel would argue that until the day she died, but she let it sit for now. Because it was Quinn's birthday. And Quinn had rescued a puppy from church on Easter and she wanted to see it swim for the first time. So Rachel just tilted forward and kissed her and fluffed the tangles out of her hair, and she let Quinn wrap a blanket around the both of them, no matter how counter-productive it was, so that they could walk to the lake and finish their evening with Penguin.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: I haven't written anything for this story in a month, so it's been in a lovely little "plotless" lull. But I'm writing again, and we'll be back in New York in the chapter after next, and yes, we'll see more of Kurt and Puck and Santana and everybody else. Moving fast now. And looking for a bit of conflict.

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 13: I Don't Need Any New Voices**

Quinn's website launched the day before Rachel's musical premiered. It was January of Quinn's third year of vet school, and it would have been sooner, but classes got in the way. Eight hours a day. And Quinn usually stayed for another three hours to study or finish up her labs or play with some farm animals. Sometimes Rachel felt like they were both turning nocturnal.

And then Quinn would say they could be just like gerbils. Except they didn't sleep during the day. They just worked even harder.

The launch was very anti-climactic. Rachel was expecting fanfare of some sort, but all Quinn's team had done was press a button. Nothing shot up into the sky and there were no explosions of any kind.

But now there was an organization with an official website called "A Bear, A Star," where autism awareness meets animal rescue. So far, it was mostly a place for people to share their stories, but Quinn would be adding animal organizations and pets up for adoption, as well as putting together fun runs and attempting to collaborate with various zoos.

She would be a busy, busy woman.

Rachel was getting used to sharing her with the world.

But right now, surrounded by a plethora of nuns and being applauded for her directorial debut, Rachel was very pleased to see Quinn approaching her. _Galloping_ towards her, really, backstage. The nuns were all singing "Maria," and Quinn weaved through them until she was standing in front of Rachel with a bright smile.

"That was magical, baby!" Quinn proclaimed, wrapping Rachel in a hug.

Rachel was returning it when she was zapped in the arm by one of Quinn's fingers. Static shock. She flinched and grabbed her arm and Quinn stared at her fingers delightedly. She reached out to touch Rachel again, but Rachel batted her away.

"We're electric." Rachel remarked, a little breathless from all the celebration.

Quinn hummed. "Sparks fly, baby." She reached out her hand again and Rachel slapped it away. Quinn laughed. "Shock something so I can touch you."

Rachel rubbed her own hands against Quinn's warm, wooly scarf and then held them over Quinn's head. She chuckled when some of Quinn's bangs were lifted up.

"You're exacerbating the problem." Quinn commented, rolling her eyes up to see what Rachel was doing. She had to speak loudly over the singing nuns.

Rachel took Quinn's hands when she was sure all of their static energy had been released. Quinn tilted forward and kissed her forehead and then her lips, and Rachel wrapped a hand in her scarf again.

"You're a director!" Quinn enthused, bouncing on her toes and forcing Rachel to bounce with her.

Rachel had known her play would run smoothly. She was a seasoned, hard-working, organized Broadway actress. And she'd cast about ten extra nuns just to make sure she had enough.

The cast and crew moved the celebration to a restaurant just off campus, and Rachel thanked them all and congratulated them in a toast. She thanked Quinn too, of course, and they sat together at the end of a long table listening to the chatter and mild drunken singing.

Nobody was surprised that the mild drunken singing was coming from Rachel.

She could admit, she'd had a little too much to drink, and Quinn sat next to her, buzzed and vibrating because she'd been nursing her own fruity concoction so that she wouldn't be so bothered by the noise and the crowd.

Rachel had started off with "Hakuna Matata," but she was now rapping something by Lil Wayne and she could not remember when she'd switched or how she even knew anything by _Lil Wayne_. But she knew where she was. And she was keeping an eye on Quinn, so she wasn't _wasted_.

"I have a project for tonight." Quinn proclaimed randomly, beating two straws against the table like out of control drums.

Rachel nodded immediately. "Is it to have sex? Because I can-"

Quinn's eyes widened and she clapped a hand over Rachel's mouth, looking scandalized. Rachel snorted. She didn't really know where she'd been going with that sentence. She kissed Quinn's palm and lifted up the untied end of Quinn's scarf to drape it around her own neck, encompassing both of them.

Rachel tied it into a knot when Quinn removed her hand.

"No, that's not my project." Quinn explained, eyes a little dilated, but serious. "My advisors say I need more people skills if I want to get a job when I graduate. Like spontaneous group speaking. This is the perfect setting."

Rachel couldn't remember what "spontaneous" meant at the moment, but she got the gist. "So you want to talk to some people." She guessed, lolling her head around like she'd lost control of her neck.

Quinn's focus had jumped down to the scarf while Rachel's had jumped up to Quinn. "What if we were tied together like this forever?" Quinn mused, leaning sideways experimentally and smiling when Rachel was dragged with her.

"Two-headed." Rachel drawled.

"Like that dragon on Dragon Tales." Quinn continued. "The purple and green one." She turned her head so that her nose was about an inch from Rachel's cheek. Rachel turned her head as well and went cross-eyed trying to look into glassy hazel eyes. She couldn't pull away any further than that.

"I think I'd need some space." Rachel admitted.

She'd definitely be killed if she was strapped to somebody permanently. Even if it was her lovely wife. Nobody could take that much. And if there was a reason they were being strapped together forever, they were probably doomed anyway, right? It could be like _SAW_.

Quinn pictured cartoon dragons while Rachel saw horror movies involving chopping off limbs.

"Hello, sweetheart." She greeted Quinn like they hadn't been in the middle of a conversation. Quinn smiled fondly at her. "Let's go talk to some people. And get more drinks." Rachel suggested, trying to stand up and then coughing when she was strangled by the scarf.

"Babe, wait." Quinn pulled her back down with a concerned laugh and untied the knot, rolling her eyes at how complicated Rachel had made it. She trailed her fingers over Rachel's neck when the scarf fell away, and Rachel giggled at the feeling.

There was a step to go up from the dining area to the bar, and Rachel caught it with her toe and tripped, but steadied herself on the back of a booth. Quinn didn't miss a beat in purposely tripping on the step as well, and stumbling to the floor herself. She straightened up, put an arm around Rachel, and looked back at the step like she didn't know where it had come from.

Rachel flushed and tried to shake the alcohol out of her brain.

Quinn sat her on a stool and put a hand on top of her head, holding her steady. Rachel tried to focus on the concerned hazel eyes in front of her. She smiled lopsidedly at Quinn.

"I'm fine, Quinn." She stated honestly. A little unsteady in the motility department, but fine. "Go…interact. Use your words. I'll be here."

Quinn pushed the blonde hair back off her flushed face. "I was-I was going to start with some of the von Trapps. They seemed nice."

Rachel smiled. "They're very nice."

Quinn swallowed. "Okay." She whispered. She kissed Rachel's cheek and squeezed her hand and walked away in search of a herd of blondes.

Rachel ordered another drink and talked with various cast members and crew as they approached. She tried to keep an eye on Quinn at all times, but she lost her after about half an hour. She must've lost herself too, because when she finally spotted Quinn, Kelly was on her arm and Rachel was filled with irrational anger.

Had Kelly just crawled out of the woodwork? Slithered through the cracks in the door to find Quinn?

This was not acceptable. Rachel blinked to clear her blurry vision and slipped off the stool, feeling surprisingly steady.

"He's been watering you down." Captain von Trapp explained easily, gesturing at the bartender. "Quinn said you'd had enough."

Rachel felt like she should be offended or something, but she saw Kelly trail a finger down Quinn's forearm and Rachel made a beeline for her wife instead. She bumped into a chair and apologized to it, and watched Quinn shake her head around and try to extract herself from Kelly's grasp.

"Hey!" Rachel's volume control was long gone. Both Quinn and Kelly spun around to see her when she was still ten feet away. Her eyes were burning, probably because she'd been awake too long. Rachel realized she may look crazy right now, but that could work to her advantage.

She stepped between Quinn and Kelly and put a hand on Kelly's arm.

"Oh, hi Rachel." Kelly greeted, amused. "How-"

"_No_." Rachel interrupted, flipping her hair out of her face. Kelly still looked like a brontosaurus. "I don't know… if you're incompetent, or deaf, or _stunted_ in some other way, but Quinn has asked you to stay away from her."

Rachel spoke slowly so that she could get the words right. The letters felt like they were so close to falling in the wrong places.

Quinn laid a warm hand on Rachel's arm. "Rachel, it's-"

Rachel shook her off, gaze fixed on Kelly. "You are _incredibly_ disrespectful. To Quinn, to people with Asperger's, to me, to our marriage. This is my _wife_, Kelly, and you need to leave her alone."

Kelly scoffed. "Quinn doesn't have Asperger's. She's just shy, and she needs somebody to pull her out-"

"Oh my God!" Rachel screeched, sputtering for words because she couldn't believe what this woman was saying. She was aware that they were receiving a few looks by now, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from Kelly.

"Rachel," Quinn interrupted again, quietly resting a hand on the small of Rachel's back. "She was just-just looking for a ride. She-"

"No." Rachel stated, whirling around to face Quinn now. And wow did _that_ make her nauseous. "Quinn, if you really believe this woman just wants to be your _friend_, then your advisors were right and you do need to work on your people skills."

Quinn's jaw clamped shut. Her eyes dropped straight to Rachel's feet and her hands twisted into the end of her scarf.

"You need to stop indulging her. Stop being so nice to her." Rachel ranted, voice rising to a higher pitch. Quinn kept her eyes fixed on the floor. "I know this is how you are, but she doesn't _deserve_ it. Open your eyes, honey."

Everything was silent and still for a moment.

Quinn swallowed. She took a few deep breaths and brushed at her eyes before stepping around Rachel and picking up her head to stare at Kelly.

"You need to find another ride." She stated quietly. Clearly. "I thought-I thought you were a good person, but you're being disrespectful, and-and I need to take my wife home now."

Kelly pursed her lips and nodded shortly. She glanced at Rachel, who was focusing on not vomiting right at the moment. It was going to happen. She could feel it.

"I…" Kelly shook her head and rolled her eyes, at _what_, Rachel wasn't sure. "You're right. Both of you. I'm…just-sorry."

And then she was gone.

Rachel stood still for a minute. She pressed a hand over her eyes and sighed heavily.

"Are you going to be sick?" Quinn whispered.

Rachel didn't know. She didn't respond, but Quinn wrapped an arm around her waist and led her carefully through the crowd and outside into the cold air.

"I should've thrown up on her." Rachel muttered. Why did the best comebacks always come _after_ the person left? "Then she wouldn't come back. Nobody comes back after they've been puked on."

Quinn scrunched up her nose, pulling Rachel to sit next to her on the curb while they waited for a cab. "You're drunk." She said quietly.

Rachel was vaguely aware of that fact, yes. If Rachel could stop herself from speaking, she would've done it _hours_ ago.

"You see her more than you see me." Rachel whined pathetically. "In your classes. _All day_." Her eyes were burning again but she knew it was because of tears this time.

"Stop, Rachel." Quinn whispered, pulling her into her side. She kissed the top of Rachel's head and rubbed her arms to keep her warm. "You're not thinking clearly right now."

Rachel cried even harder. She wrapped her fist in Quinn's scarf and pulled her wife as close as possible. "And I didn't mean to-to say you don't have people skills!" she choked. "You do! I love your skills!"

Quinn chuckled a little hopelessly and rubbed Rachel's back. "The way you phrased it sort of…wasn't nice."

"I'm being dumb." Rachel sniffled, wiping her nose on Quinn's scarf.

"You're drunk." Quinn said again, grimacing but helping Rachel with her nose. "I-I love you more than anything in the world and more than I can even say, and…I just thought Kelly might need a friend. But no more. You can throw up on her shoes the next time you see her."

Rachel took a deep, shaky breath and wiped at her eyes.

"This is your night. You're a _director_." Quinn continued softly, still rubbing Rachel's back. "And it's always only you for me, little bear. You don't have to…tell me to _open my eyes_. I know what I'm doing."

Rachel whined and nodded, pressing her face into Quinn's shoulder.

"It's patronizing." Quinn said quietly, kissing the top of her head. "Or it feels like it is."

Rachel kept nodding. She just couldn't stop nodding. "I'm sorry. I love you."

Quinn shook her head around. "I'm sorry I haven't let you punch Kelly yet. Maybe she deserves it." Then she frowned and scrunched up her nose. "Wait, no, nobody deserves that."

Rachel swallowed, chuckling lightly and trying not to projectile into the street.

"You can work on your people skills with me." She drawled, hugging Quinn's arm.

Quinn laughed. And Rachel leaned forward and vomited between her shoes.

~oooooooooo~

Rachel dropped onto the couch the next afternoon and watched Quinn sort through the box of chess pieces. It had been a relaxing day. After the vomiting had stopped and the headache had dulled and all of the Sunny Delight in the house had been funneled into Rachel's body by Quinn.

At least she could think clearly again, after about five showers. She enjoyed watching the rain all day and snuggling under blankets and listening to Quinn read _Gulliver's Travels_ out loud.

Quinn liked to change her voice to suit all the characters. The giants, the tiny people. The _horses_. Mostly because Rachel laughed when she did it.

Rachel watched Barnaby saunter up and grab a pawn out of the box with his mouth. He did it nonchalantly, right in front of her face.

Like _fuck yeah, this is my pawn. I'll just walk away with this_.

"_Hey_." Rachel scolded, propping a leg up on the coffee table to prevent Barnaby's escape. "No, Barney. Give it to me."

She held out her hand. Her other hand was holding an ice cream cone. Strawberry vegan ice cream, which was unsettling her stomach, but oh so delicious. This whole thing was probably a ploy so that Barnaby could seize the cone while Rachel grappled for the pawn.

He sat down and stared at the leg propped in his way. Then he tried to turn around, but the space was too narrow, so he backed right up into Quinn.

Quinn gave him a hug. Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Get the pawn, Quinn." Rachel said, gesturing at Barnaby's mouth. He was keeping it closed, concealing his treasure.

Quinn was usually the one able to pry open the jaws of their animals. Rachel could, but she wasn't fond of getting covered in slobber, thank you very much.

Cornelius had the jaws of an alligator. Or a hippo. Just super-strength, and they usually had to offer him a trade for whatever he had in his mouth. The rest weren't so bad. Barnaby liked to whine while Quinn pried his mouth open, like he was being injured, probably looking for some pity.

Rachel pulled on his golden, fluffy tail until it started wagging.

Quinn pulled the pawn out of his mouth and pushed him away to play with the cats. Quinn looked like she was going to wipe the pawn on the couch, but she caught Rachel's raised eyebrow and jumped up to get a paper towel from the kitchen instead.

"Yeah, you do that." Rachel said loudly. She frowned at the chess board. Something had chewed the corner of it.

"You're melting, baby." Quinn commented, plopping back down next to Rachel and taking the ice cream from her hand. She licked around the top until it wasn't dripping down the sides, and then handed it back to Rachel looking pleased.

Rachel hummed. Lovely.

She wiped the ice cream off Quinn's smiling lips and turned back to the game board.

"We're missing a rook and a knight. And both black bishops." Quinn observed. She flipped the box upside down but nothing else fell out.

Rachel narrowed her eyes. She wasn't entirely sure what the rook looked like. She knew the knights were the horses. They were Quinn's favorite pieces. Rachel's favorite piece was the queen. She liked to take it on power trips to destroy her opponent.

"They're castles." Quinn clarified, without even looking at Rachel.

And they're probably in Barnaby's stomach. Or decomposing in the middle of Central Park.

Quinn retrieved some gummy bears and situated herself on the black side. The side with all the missing pieces. She filled in all the boxes with gummy bears and then smiled at Rachel, ready to battle with her army of candy.

"Blue is a rook, red is a knight, and white are the bishops." She explained.

Rachel stared at her.

Quinn faltered. "Do-do you need the bucket?"

Rachel snorted and shook her head. No, thankfully, that was all out of her system.

She knew Quinn would end up accidentally eating half of all her game pieces before the match ended. She was eager to see how long it would take. Rachel took the first turn and then slid onto the floor so that she could play with Quinn's feet under the coffee table.

It was silent for five minutes, except for the tapping of the plastic pieces.

"Do you think Teletubbies are dinosaurs?" Quinn asked loudly, frowning at the board. She absently stuck a gummy bear, one of her bishops, in her mouth, and Rachel snorted a laugh. Quinn looked up at her and flushed. She replaced the gummy bear with a new one.

And then Rachel realized what she'd actually _said_, and laughed again.

"I think a Teletubby is a Teletubby." Rachel mused with a wide smile. "They're their own…thing. Species."

Breed. Kingdom. Whatever. Rachel could see the resemblance to dinosaurs, though. Or the resemblance to fake dinosaurs, like Barney and the ones from _The Land Before Time_. Probably not accurate representations.

Rachel shrugged. "But they do have those things on their heads, so…"

Antennae? Horns? Rachel did not know.

"They're sort of anthropomorphized. I think if the world was coming to an end, if the apocalypse was upon us, the Teletubby bunker would be a good place to hide." Quinn remarked, studying the board. "Zombie or otherwise. There's only one entrance, and it looks like a steel door. And then inside there's a pancake machine, so…"

_Obviously_. It would be the perfect place. Rachel nodded along. Quinn ate another bishop.

"You'd be camouflaged in the hills." Quinn continued. "It'd be like living as a gopher."

Quinn looked up at Rachel with wide eyes right as she said that. Rachel smiled at her. She knew what she was thinking. From gerbils to gophers. Rachel really didn't know exactly what a gopher was. She used the word "hamster" to describe everything from moles to voles to meerkats.

Rachel took her turn while Quinn was lost in her fantasy.

"There's a gopher in Pooh." Quinn stated, staring seriously at Rachel. "He calls himself Samuel Gopher, but he wasn't in the books Milne wrote. Just the old movies. He whistles when he talks."

Rachel tried not to laugh. Quinn ate her knight.

"And he falls into his holes a lot." Quinn added. She sighed and tilted her head to stare down at her lap. She was silent for a moment. "You-you said I was crazy for thinking Kelly wanted to be my friend."

Rachel's smile dropped with the sudden change of topic. She squeezed Quinn's bare foot and tickled her toes.

"But I-that's-that's what Aunt Lisa used to say." Quinn stuttered, ripping the head off a gummy bear before looking horrified and trying to stick it back together. "That I was too weird for friends to like me."

Rachel's mouth dropped open. Quinn finally looked up and smiled self-deprecatingly. "I mean, I'm twenty-seven, I know I shouldn't-"

"_Bear_." Rachel interrupted, shaking her head and squeezing the life out of Quinn's foot. Quinn ate the gummy bear she had decapitated and chewed with her cheeks puffed out. "That woman, that seven foot tall, crazy bitch, brontosaur-"

"_Rachel_!" Quinn pressed her cold foot against Rachel's thigh, eyes wide and shaking her head vigorously. "Don't be mean."

Rachel sighed exasperatedly. "I meant, she has a crush on you. A _massive_ crush. And there's no doubt in my mind that she wants to be _more_ than friends with you. That's what I meant."

Quinn licked her lips, listening intently with her gaze on Rachel's warm eyes. "I've told you before, anybody would be lucky to be your friend, bear. Of course they would." Rachel insisted, tickling the bottom of Quinn's feet.

Quinn tried not to smile. "Oh." She said simply, sounding relieved. "I-you should have said it like that last night."

Rachel shrugged. "I'd rather just forget about last night, please."

Everything after curtain call. Just wipe it out.

"People love you, and that's why you're going to find an amazing job when you graduate." Rachel continued. She waved a hand vaguely through the air. "Fuck the advisors."

"_Rachel_." Quinn chided, a little quieter than before. She was probably getting used to it. "Language."

Rachel leaned down and kissed Quinn's foot. Quinn threw a few gummy bears at her and Rachel laughed loudly. A ritualistic call that attracted all the dogs and caused Cloud to sweep all the game pieces off the board with his tail.

Rachel won the first game anyway. Mostly because Quinn had eaten her pieces and then lost track of where they'd been. Rachel was about to call "check" in the second game when Quinn looked at the time on her phone and announced that she had to go study.

Rachel pouted. "You can't study here?"

Quinn stood up and climbed over the coffee table. Instead of walking around it like a normal person. She sat on the floor next to Rachel and kissed the side of her head.

"I have to meet the group. We're sharing notes. And, you know, _people skills_, right?" she murmured. "I'm the smartest one. I think they need me."

Rachel sighed. Quinn copied her, exaggerating it and including some vocal cord action. Rachel eyed her. Quinn stared straight ahead, and Rachel folded her arms and flipped her hair.

Quinn folded her arms and flipped her hair so that the blonde strands hit Rachel's face. Rachel scrunched up her nose and Quinn did the same. Rachel huffed, acting annoyed. Quinn tried to huff but it came out as more of a laugh.

"Aren't you going to be _late_?" Rachel asked with a straight face.

Quinn looked like she was contemplating just repeating what Rachel said, but she must've decided against it because she sat up and straddled Rachel's legs instead.

"I can't leave if you're sad." She remarked, puffing out her cheeks. She grabbed Rachel's ears and kissed her mouth.

Rachel put her hands on Quinn's thighs. She hummed when Quinn leaned back. "One more." She instructed. "And then you can go."

Quinn grinned brightly. "How about five?"

Rachel laughed. "Okay, bear. Give me five."

Quinn leaned forward and pecked Rachel's lips four times. She lingered for the fifth, allowing for their lips to glide together, and she nibbled Rachel's lower lip before pulling away. "Good?" she asked.

Rachel nodded reluctantly. She would have to wait another week for a night in with Quinn.

"Go on and learn something." She stated, bouncing her knees until Quinn stood up. "Use your words. Read some books. I'll be here."

"Love you, little bear." Quinn said sweetly as she grabbed her bag from the kitchen table. She blew Rachel a kiss. How could Rachel be mad at that? She caught it and pressed it to her lips, and then set off to find Barnaby and some missing chess pieces.

~ooooooooooo~

Rachel was nearly asleep when Quinn came home. She was in bed, under a thick layer of blankets, and she only realized somebody else was in the room because Char's tail thumped near her feet. She could barely feel it though. She'd cocooned herself to protect from the cold.

Rachel peered out from the top of her quilt and smiled to herself when she saw Quinn crouched near the wall having a whispered conversation with Cloud. She was nodding as she spoke. Cloud's tail whacked against the carpet silently.

Quinn kissed his head and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. When she emerged, she was wearing her fuzzy pajamas, and she walked quietly around the bed to climb into her side. She stayed on top of the covers and rolled over to face Rachel.

Rachel stayed completely still and listened for any movement.

Quinn leaned in closer. She felt carefully around the blankets and sighed in frustration when she didn't come across any discernible features. Like limbs. Skin. A face. Rachel contained her laugh.

Quinn was silent for another moment. Rachel could feel her eyes on her. Or what Quinn _thought_ was her. Rachel had really gone a little overboard with all the blankets.

"Rachel." Quinn whispered.

Rachel remained perfectly still, breathing deeply. Quinn shifted even closer.

"Little bear." She said, even quieter. "Where are you?"

Rachel's chest shook with contained laughter, but it wasn't noticeable inside her cocoon. Quinn sighed again, and then whined and flopped onto her back in despair. Rachel chuckled into her quilt and Quinn immediately rolled back over. Rachel could see her teeth in the dark.

"Why are you buried under a mountain?" Quinn whispered, tugging at the sheets and comforter to determine if she could squirm her way in. Even if it seemed like she couldn't, she would find a way. Rachel knew this.

"Are your feet cold?" Rachel murmured, ignoring the question.

"You're like a groundhog." Quinn whispered. Another unidentifiable rodent for Rachel. She peeled back a few layers of blankets and sat up to wiggle herself under them. "And no. I'm wearing your socks."

Rachel hummed. Quinn shifted around for a bit, pawing at Rachel to find her face.

"_Help me_." Quinn pleaded after a couple minutes. "Where's your pretty little face?"

Rachel pushed the blankets down and heaved a sigh like she was being put out. Quinn was on her in half a second. She pressed kisses to Rachel's cheeks and trapped her in her limbs. Rachel chuckled and pulled the quilt back up. There was always room for two in her cocoon.

"I found her." Quinn proclaimed quietly into Rachel's shoulder. "She was hiding from me."

Rachel shook her head. "Just from the cold."

Quinn took a deep breath, and all the blankets raised up with it. Rachel wondered if people ever had respiratory problems while they slept because of the weight of blankets on their chests. She was finding inhaling a little difficult. She needed someone to poke holes in her bottle.

Quinn weaved an arm up above their heads and opened up the blankets a little bit so they could get some air.

Rachel sighed thankfully. "I don't see you enough when we're awake, baby." She whispered, running a hand under Quinn's shirt and enjoying the warmth of her skin.

Quinn nodded. "I know." She agreed sadly.

Rachel twisted a hand in Quinn's hair. "I don't like this."

"It's work and school. It'll get better." Quinn assured.

"No, I was talking about your hair." Rachel joked.

Quinn laughed and pressed forward until she could blow a raspberry into Rachel's neck. "Don't be mean to me."

"Don't leave me halfway through a chess game." Rachel countered.

"I have an idea, little bear." Quinn whispered, nose nudging Rachel's cheek.

Rachel was prepared for anything. Animals. A trip to the Great Barrier Reef. A new recipe involving marshmallows and Skittles. More bedroom games. It could really be anything. She hummed for Quinn to continue.

"Spring break's coming up. I think we should go visit your dads in Ohio." Quinn explained quietly. "We haven't seen them since last summer. And you could play with me for a whole week. No interruptions."

Rachel chuckled at Quinn's verb usage.

"That's a lot of time to be stuck with you in one bedroom." Rachel mused.

Quinn shook her hair into Rachel's face. "We just have to bribe somebody to take care of the pets."

Which was easier said than done. It couldn't be anybody who had taken care of them previously, because those people learned from those experiences. They would not be making those mistakes again. And Rachel was willing to fork over a lot of cash to anybody who took care of the dogs. But people usually refused once they met Cornelius. She'd probably look into a kennel.

"I bought you flowers on the way home." Quinn blurted into the quiet.

Rachel tapped her fingers against Quinn's chest. She was not surprised. "You're a sweetheart." She murmured.

"You deserve it." Quinn continued. "And I got the ones that look like you."

Rachel frowned. They were talking about flowers, right? Had she fallen asleep?

"It's a multi-colored assortment." Quinn said into Rachel's ear. "Very bright. I mean, _sunshine_ bright. Vivid. Full of life. If they could sing, they'd sound like you. I put them in a vase on the table."

Rachel smiled sleepily. "Thank you, baby."

She hoped there were enough flowers left in the morning for her to get a look at them. The cats loved to drag them out and eat them. Break a few vases. Get water everywhere.

"I bought you jelly beans as well, but I ate them." Quinn added quietly.

Rachel snorted into her shoulder.

"And I took a picture of the lamb that was just born on the farm at school. I thought you'd like to see it."

Rachel would love to see it. Mostly because Quinn was delighted by it, but also because it would be absolutely adorable. "Did you learn anything while you were doing all this for me?" she asked.

Quinn squeezed her closer. "I learned that I love you more than I thought was possible. And that nothing will ever be enough, because you deserve all the flowers and jelly beans in the world. And that ewes eat the placenta so that there won't be any evidence of birthing, to protect their lambs from predators."

Well. That was a little gross.

Rachel chose to ignore the third sentence.

"I…love you too." She said, ridding her mind of the images.

"And correct presentation in a sheep birth is front legs first, with-"

"_Baby_." Rachel interrupted. "Big bear, honey, sweetie, sunshine. Let's sleep."

Quinn sighed and nodded. She kissed the side of Rachel's head and made sure there was enough air in their cocoon. There was not. Rachel felt like a lamb being born. Quinn made the hole bigger and pressed a cool stuffed animal to Rachel's face.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Thank you everybody for all your kind comments! This chapter is based on somebody else's idea (you know who you are), because it intrigued me. I just toned it down quite a bit. Massive problems writing it. Huge, awful, massive problems. Also, _long_. I was going to split in two, but alas, laziness.

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 14: Push Me 'til I Have to Fly**

Rachel woke up on the first day of spring break to find that she was in a bright, sunshine yellow bedroom and a queen-sized bed with pink flower print blankets. She had a completely immobile, temporary panic attack before realizing that yes, it was her room, and she was in her old house, and she hadn't been kidnapped.

Which was a huge relief.

Rachel sighed loudly in exaggerated despair when she saw that Quinn wasn't in bed. But then she heard singing coming from her bathroom and she smiled, narrowing her eyes up at her ceiling fan to determine what the song was.

And wow, that ceiling fan was dusty. Her room was kept as a shrine while she was in New York.

The song was a mess, like Quinn was blurring the words together because she didn't know them. Rachel laughed into her pillow; she knew the feeling. But then Quinn's voice got louder, like she grew more confident with the lyrics, and the words became clear.

"_Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up, in the morning when the day is new_." Quinn's voice was light and sweet, and Rachel reveled in it. "_And after having spent the day together, hold each other close the whole night__-_."

Quinn cut off abruptly as Rachel heard a small crash from the bathroom. She laughed into her pillow again at Quinn's muttering.

And then she rolled over, caught sight of the time, and nearly had a stroke.

"Quinn!" she screeched, sitting bolt upright and throwing the blankets off her legs.

Quinn came hurrying back to Rachel's room, dressed in a pale purple dress and a denim jacket, bangs pinned back, looking concerned. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" she asked loudly, taking two large steps over the suitcases on the floor and blindly reaching for Rachel.

Rachel grabbed Quinn's wrists to prevent her from wrapping her up in a hug. "It's ten o'clock! Brunch is in twenty minutes!" she exclaimed, staring up at her wife, eyebrows raised. "Why didn't you wake me?"

Quinn breathed out in relief. "God, you gave me a heart attack, little bear."

"You should've woken me up!" Rachel pressed, letting go of Quinn's wrists to spin in a circle and find everything she needed. Clothes, hairbrush, toothbrush. They were all in different locations. Why was she so fucking organized?

Quinn smiled obliviously. She grabbed the back of Rachel's t-shirt to prevent her from whirling away. "You looked cute." She said simply, pointing at a stack of clothes and essentials on the dresser.

Rachel tried to step towards them, but Quinn pulled her back, stretching her shirt out and strangling her. She turned around and stared up at her wife, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Hold still, Thumper." Quinn requested, fisting her hands into the t-shirt at Rachel's waist.

Rachel huffed. She was late, but she stopped tapping. Quinn was a neat, blonde vision in purple and denim, and Rachel was a messy, sleepy mess in sweats.

Quinn smiled down at her, eyes sparkling. "Good morning." She said slowly. Melodically. "You look lovely right now."

She was pressing buttons. Rachel was aware of this.

Rachel's lips twitched. "Good morning." She drawled, staring defiantly into Quinn's eyes. She tried to pull away again, but Quinn held her in place. Rachel tried not to smile.

"I love you." Quinn said sweetly. Rachel didn't say anything, and Quinn swayed her from side to side.

"I said _I love you_." Quinn repeated, eyebrow raised. Her hazel eyes were bright and expectant. "You looked like a cutie pie this morning. I didn't want to wake you up."

Rachel scoffed at the use of "cutie pie," but her scoff turned into a laugh, and she failed to straighten her face before Quinn laughed as well.

"Did you break something in the bathroom?" Rachel asked, trying to look stern again.

Quinn smiled sagely. "I love you." She said again, ignoring the question.

So that was a "yes."

Rachel snorted. "I love you too." She said warmly, leaning up into her wife to give her a proper greeting.

Quinn hummed into Rachel's soft lips. And then the doorbell rang and Rachel whirled around, panicking again in the search for her clothes. She stumbled into her old elliptical and then into an overloaded trophy shelf, and the thought briefly crossed her mind that she had been absolutely _insane_ as a child.

Insanely talented. Rachel's room was like a giant trophy case for the first half of her life.

Quinn pointed her to her clothes and then left the room to greet the Hudson-Hummels with Rachel's dads. Rachel found that Quinn had dropped a bottle of lotion in the bathroom and broken the top, and then left a sticky note with a sad face on it stuck to the bottle.

It made Rachel smile.

She heard raised voices coming from the dining room as she descended the stairs ten minutes later. _Happy_ voices. Rachel was actually surprised at Quinn's volume. She must have been using her "passionate" voice, probably about an animal of some kind.

"You can't outrun a hippo, Finn!"

Yes. Rachel was correct.

"She's right, Finn," Hiram stated, sauntering past Rachel and into the dining room. He ruffled her hair along the way. "The real question is, can you fit in a hippo's mouth when it tries to eat you."

Lovely brunch conversation.

Rachel stepped into the dining room and shuffled around to her seat next to Quinn. She paused to bend down and hug Finn quickly around the neck and then to press a kiss to the top of her wife's head. Quinn smiled up at her.

"Tell her, Rach." Finn demanded, draped earnestly across the table with his sleeve in the scrambled eggs. "I can totally outrun a hippo."

Quinn's knees banged against the table and Rachel settled a hand on her wife's thigh. "They can run nineteen miles per hour!" Quinn stated defiantly, cheeks flushed. "They weigh 3500 pounds and look like lumbering monsters, but their bones are built for that and they're _strong_."

Rachel smiled warmly at Carole and Burt, who sat across the table watching the argument with much amusement. Maybe some wariness. Newcomers to the whimsy of hippo discussions with Quinn.

Hiram sat down at one head of the table and Leroy placed a bowl of fruit and a tray of biscuits down before settling at the other.

"Okay, look," Finn continued reasonably, spooning hash browns onto his plate, "what if it was a marathon? Could I outrun a hippo in, like, a five mile run?"

Rachel narrowed her eyes. Finn probably couldn't run five miles. It would just be a question of who collapsed first.

Quinn picked up her fork and tapped it against the table restlessly. "Hippos can only maintain their speed for a few hundred yards." She conceded. She rocked side to side a little bit. Rachel squeezed her thigh and nodded discreetly at the fork to get her to hold still.

Quinn flushed and stared down at her bacon.

"It's cool you know so much about them." Finn remarked, choking a little bit on his mouthful.

Quinn smiled and murmured a thank you.

"If a hippo swallowed you whole…" Leroy started thoughtfully, waving his fork thoughtfully through the air.

Rachel groaned inwardly. That sentence could not end well.

"…do you think you could survive?" Leroy finished. He glanced around the table, winking at Rachel's expression.

"They're not _dinosaurs_, Leroy." Hiram rolled his eyes over his pancakes.

Quinn sat up straighter.

Carole chuckled. "Or Jonah and the whale."

Rachel grimaced. If surviving meant being vomited up by a hippopotamus, she'd really rather just die. If she was in a position to be swallowed by a hippo, just kill her. This was not appropriate brunch conversation.

"They eat grass." Quinn contributed quietly. "So eating a human would be aberrant behavior. It would have to be an insane hippo, maybe diseased. And they'd never do it whole. They'd probably rip off your-"

"_Stop_." Rachel interrupted loudly, squeezing her nails into Quinn's thigh. Everybody looked at her. Rachel stared down at her tofu scramble. "That's-just-_stop._ New topic. Please."

It was quiet for a moment. Quinn bounced her foot until Rachel let go of her leg. Rachel smiled at her and rubbed the spot apologetically, and Quinn grabbed her hand and pressed it to her lips. Rachel poked Quinn in the ribs when she realized Quinn had syrup on her mouth.

"I'm moving to Maryland!" Finn declared with a smile.

Quinn wiped the syrup off of Rachel's hand while Burt and Carole nodded proudly.

Finn noticed Rachel's surprise. "It's where my girlfriend lives." He explained, cutting up his bacon. "I've saved up, and I'm moving out of my apartment and in with her, and opening my own auto shop within a year. I've got it all planned out."

"That's great!" Hiram exclaimed. He grabbed his glass of water and held it up, gesturing with his other hand for everybody else to do the same. Quinn kissed Rachel's hand, which was no longer sticky, and dropped the torn up napkin on the table next to her plate.

She lifted up her chocolate milk and Rachel clutched her lemonade.

"To Finn! We knew you would do it." Hiram proclaimed. "And…making dreams come true."

Rachel nodded, clinking her glass with everybody around her.

"Took a while." Finn said with an easy shrug. "I'm not exactly the sharpest lightbulb in the closet."

Rachel let that one go.

Quinn looked at Finn, taking a moment to swallow her pancakes. "Well, that's okay." She offered softly. "You know, Pooh said it's more fun to talk with somebody who doesn't use long, difficult words, but rather short, easy words, like _what about lunch_?"

Rachel suppressed a smile, staring fondly at her wife. Quinn gazed earnestly at Finn.

"And he said that you can't help respecting anybody who can spell Tuesday, even if he doesn't spell it right, because spelling isn't everything." Quinn explained, tapping her foot. "There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count…So… I'm sure you have what counts, Finn. You can put cars back together."

Rachel glanced across the table. Were those tears in Carole's eyes? In _Finn's_ eyes? Her fathers met her gaze and smiled, shaking their heads fondly. They knew they had someone special.

Quinn seemed to realize that she'd just said all of that to somebody who wasn't Rachel, and she shook her head around and shoveled more pancake into her mouth. Rachel squeezed her thigh.

"That was…that's really nice, Quinn." Finn said with a sort of awed smile. "Thanks."

Quinn nodded with a flush.

"Speaking of _jobs_, Quinn, what will you be doing when you graduate?" Burt asked through a bite of sausage. Carole nudged him in the shoulder and he swallowed. "Will you open your own practice, or do you think you can get a job as a vet right away?"

Quinn met his gaze and sat up in her seat. "I'll be looking for a job right away, probably as an associate veterinarian. In New York."

"At a zoo, right?" Carole questioned curiously. "How competitive is that?"

"I-well, I'm smarter than everybody I know." Quinn blurted.

Rachel snorted and nudged her wife in the ribs.

"And modest." Hiram added with a wink.

Quinn shook her head around, nose scrunched up. She flipped up the cuffs of her denim jacket because she was dipping them in her pancake syrup. "I mean, out of the people in my class at Davis, I'd be the most…_qualified_. For a job. I think."

Carole nodded, smiling with interest.

"I was actually offered a potential position as an assistant veterinarian at the Santa Barbara Zoo for next year." Quinn stated, reaching across the table for the whipped cream.

Finn gestured for her to stop, and he handed her the bowl with a thumbs up.

Rachel got stuck on what Quinn said. That seemed sort of important.

She sat staring at her fruit for a minute, brow furrowed, a little confused. She turned to look at Quinn seriously. Quinn was making a whipped cream smiley face on her pancakes.

"You were offered a job in LA?" Rachel asked quietly.

Quinn glanced at her, and then did a double-take when she saw Rachel's expression. She smiled at the rest of the faces around the table who were now politely commending Finn on the French toast tower he was building.

"It-it wasn't _official _or anything." Quinn stuttered, setting the cream down and focusing on Rachel. "One of my professors used to work there and he knows they'll be hiring next year, so he put in a good word for me…But, I mean, we'll be in New York, so it doesn't matter."

Rachel stared at her. Quinn's fingers tapped along the table cloth, but she kept Rachel's gaze, asking for what was wrong.

Rachel could see the conflict in Quinn's eyes. She probably knew what was wrong.

"You rejected a job as a veterinarian in a _Los Angeles Zoo_ without even talking to me about it?" Rachel questioned disbelievingly.

Hiram pulled out one of Finn's French toast sticks like Jenga and the whole tower collapsed.

Quinn swallowed, knee bouncing. Her eyes dragged back to her smiley pancakes. "It just…never even crossed my mind to consider taking it."

Rachel gazed at her for a moment more. And then she turned back to her fruit and put a grape in her mouth, and decided to enjoy the rest of brunch.

Quinn was quiet for a minute. "Rachel." she whispered carefully, reaching out to tap Rachel's thigh.

Rachel grabbed her hand and squeezed it, eyes on her strawberries. "Later, baby." She murmured.

Leroy glanced at the two of them, eyes widened at Rachel like he was telepathically trying to determine if everything was alright. He looked psychotic. Rachel smiled wryly and nodded.

"We're going to our couples-over-sixty dance class after brunch." Hiram offered far too loudly to the table as a whole.

Rachel winced. She remembered her wedding. Her dads could probably do with dialing the dancing down a notch.

But it was dancing, and it was good for the soul, and they were the Berrys, so dialing anything down at all wasn't an option.

"You should come with us!" Hiram proclaimed brightly, gesturing at Carole and Burt.

Sucking other people into the insanity _was_ an option.

"Do you think I could _ride_ on a hippo?" Finn questioned from the other side of the table. He was surrounded by syrup stains because of his collapsed French toast tower, but he had his chin in his hand and he looked thoughtful. "How many people could fit on them?"

If he couldn't outrun it, maybe he could jump on top.

Rachel chuckled. Quinn stayed surprisingly quiet.

Leroy perked up and pointed his knife at Finn. "The _real_ question is could a baby hippo ride on _you_?"

~oooooooooo~

Quinn cornered Rachel after everybody had left the house. Hiram and Leroy for their dance class and the Hudson-Hummels for home. Rachel stood in the living room looking for a movie to watch and Quinn stalked up behind her and plopped loudly into an armchair. Rachel didn't flinch. She focused on the songbird chirping right outside the window.

She ran a finger along the top of _Finding Nemo_ and winced. Her dads really needed to dust this house.

Quinn threw a pillow at Rachel's butt, and Rachel wanted to smile, but she kept her face blank when she turned around.

"I don't know why you're mad at me." Quinn stated plainly, running her hands over the arms of the chair, hazel eyes honest.

Rachel sighed. She stepped randomly around the living room, watching her feet, trying to decide between _The Royal Tenenbaums_ and _Grease_.

"Please tell me." Quinn entreated, leaning forward and staring at Rachel. "Tell me what's wrong."

There was not a single doubt in Rachel's mind that Quinn already knew what was wrong.

Rachel crouched down by the shelf of movies and extracted _Grease_, blowing the dust off the top. She liked to do the dance and the sound effects at the end to "We Go Together," which always made Quinn laugh.

Rachel straightened back up and turned to Quinn, meeting her gaze. "Quinn, you…you rejected a legitimate job offer for next year, in Los Angeles, without talking to me first."

Quinn bit her lip.

"A job as a vet in Santa Barbra, and I just-" Rachel shook her head in frustration. Quinn gripped the sides of the chair harder. "I just can't believe it wouldn't even occur to you to _talk_ to me."

Rachel's voice rose a bit. She had no particular desire to live in LA, but it wasn't like job offers were falling from the sky.

The songbird was blaring now, and Rachel glanced towards the window to make sure it hadn't been captured by a cat or some other suburban predator. Or replaced by something that was _dying_ because _God_ it was loud.

"We're going back to New York." Quinn said resolutely.

Rachel shook her head shortly. "That was our _plan_." She stated, a little high-pitched, waving a hand through the air. "A hazy one, in the distance. That's what we _hoped_, but we have to work with what we have."

"Rachel, we're going back to New York." Quinn repeated, gazing up at her wife.

Rachel whirled around and stared at her. "Quinn, this isn't a fantasy!" she proclaimed, voice rising, tipping into that place where she couldn't control it anymore. "We don't-this isn't imagination land! You should've taken that job!"

Quinn frowned. "And settled? For a place that doesn't have bears? Where-"

"You don't need _bears_." Rachel interrupted with an eye roll.

The songbird outside now sounded like it was being drowned and it was annoying her greatly. She didn't really want to open the window to yell at it because it would be bound to just swoop inside. Attack her face. Crap in the living room.

"Maybe you're worried about going back to New York." Quinn suggested quietly, getting to her feet. "That-I don't know-Broadway won't be the same?"

Rachel scoffed. "That's ridiculous."

"Telling me to accept a job that I don't _want_ is ridiculous." Quinn countered shortly. She looked upset, moving her head around a bit more than usual. Her eyes were almost green.

"You should've told me!" Rachel yelled, tossing _Grease_ so that it went skidding along the coffee table. "You-you get so excited about things! The only reason you wouldn't have told me is because you knew I'd suggest you take the job!"

Rachel slammed a hand against the window in frustration, sighing in relief when the bird stopped singing. For a moment. And then it started again, louder than ever. It was invading Rachel's soul, syncing with her heartbeat.

"You purposefully kept it from me, Quinn." Rachel accused angrily.

"You belong in New York!" Quinn argued, running her hands up and down her thighs, pleading with Rachel to understand her.

Rachel made a garbled noise of frustration and annoyance. "How can a damn bird be so _loud_?" she screeched.

Quinn looked confused for a moment. Rachel pressed her fingers against her temples, and then gave up with that and headed for the front door.

Was she breathing in time with the bird's song? It felt like it. Maybe she was morphing into the bird.

"Where are you going?" Quinn asked loudly, trailing after Rachel. Her voice shook. "Don't leave. You-you can't leave me here."

Rachel whirled around and stuck an arm out to gently stop Quinn from running her over. "Somewhere quiet. I'm taking daddy's car."

Rachel would probably just run to the grocery store to get a few things for movie night later. Some popcorn. Gummy bears for Quinn. Twizzlers for her dads. A humane way to get rid of aviary pests. Rachel wondered how painful a bb gun was for a bird. She vetoed that idea right away because there was no doubt in her mind that a human would get shot as well.

Quinn's voice rose. She clutched the doorway. "Wait, no, don't leave. We're not-"

Rachel silenced Quinn with a peck to the lips, and then heaved open the front door and strode out to the car. She could see Quinn shaking her head around, running her hands over her face a little bit as she stood in the doorway.

Rachel had faith that she could calm herself down. And Rachel would be returning with gummy bears and the headspace for a civil conversation. Maybe a harmless spray of some sort for the tree in the front yard. She looked away from Quinn and pulled out of the driveway in her dad's car.

~oooooooooo~

Unfortunately, "bird repellent" did not exist. At least not as a common household product sold at the grocery store. This definitely had to be a serious flaw of the pest control industry.

But the chirping finally faded from Rachel's head, and she was able to calm down enough to realize that it was just a _songbird_ and it wouldn't sit at that fucking window every day for the rest of its life.

There was no need for her to capture it and ship it to South America. It was just a bird.

So Rachel left with her popcorn and candy, including a jumbo jar of Animal Crackers which she'd bought impulsively for Quinn, and called Kurt while she was sitting out in the parking lot.

Rachel could not talk and drive. She didn't like her dad's car because the gas and brake pedals were so sensitive. Every time she tried to casually slow down she'd fling herself forward in the driver's seat like she was crashing the car. To onlookers, she probably looked like a child who'd stolen her parents' vehicle.

Kurt was perfectly objective in his analysis of the situation. "She should've told you." He said immediately.

Rachel nodded vigorously, though no one could see her. "I know!"

"But she's doing what's best for you, _both_ of you," Kurt continued, "and telling her to take the job is wrong."

Rachel faltered. It was a guaranteed job for Quinn right out of college. Rachel didn't see how it could possibly be right to reject it.

"Maybe she was right." Kurt suggested easily, voice a little softer. "You're scared about returning to Broadway. I mean, it's been four years. It's understandable."

That really was not Rachel's problem. Or it hadn't been until Quinn brought it up. Rachel usually bordered on megalomania, actually. Inflated self-esteem and fantasies of power which were grounded in her magnificent talent.

She was a star. Always had been and always would be.

So Rachel shoved that newly formed insecurity aside because it wasn't relevant to the issue at hand.

"I'm going to apologize." She told Kurt, starting the car and trying to figure out the air conditioner because she was _melting_.

Kurt hummed into her ear. She could hear yelling in the background and she smiled to herself. Blaine had taken Kurt zip-lining upstate and Rachel was disappointed she wasn't there to witness _that _disaster.

"But she needs to apologize to me as well." Rachel continued resolutely. Her mind was blissfully clear now. Her body could handle this. No nosebleeds over extreme excitement or emotional stress or feelings that just couldn't be contained.

"Just, both of you, calm down your crazy." Kurt advised. Rachel could hear the smile in his voice. She huffed, but he hung up before she could reply.

So she headed home, jolting herself forwards and backwards at every stop sign and light.

Rachel felt like a race car driver by the time she walked through the front door of her old house. She was twisting her neck around, trying to get the kinks out, when her dad came shuffling hurriedly towards her from the kitchen. He looked worried.

"Hey, honey." Hiram greeted in a whisper, prying all the grocery bags out of her hands.

Rachel frowned up at him, a little wary. "Why are you whispering?" she questioned carefully, glancing around the foyer like they were hiding from a serial killer in the closet.

Hiram ignored the question and put a hand on Rachel's back, guiding her toward the stairs. Rachel's heart was beating faster with every step.

"Honey, Quinn is-I think she's having a panic attack." Hiram informed quietly.

And Rachel's heart seized up, and she paused for only half a second to meet her father's concerned gaze before grabbing the banister and taking off up the stairs.

Hiram looked only slightly surprised at how fast she moved. "She locked herself in your room." He called as Rachel hit the top step. "We were about to call you."

Rachel didn't acknowledge this; her mind was only on her wife. She actually felt a little bit sick, heart in her throat, stomach churning. She strode straight into her bedroom door, colliding with because it was locked like her dad had _just_ said.

Rachel shook her head quickly. She just never should've left.

"Quinn." She called out cautiously, leaning against the door. She couldn't hear anything. Rachel's purse was still looped over her shoulder, and she dropped it to dig out a penny. She used the coin to turn the little groove on the doorknob, rolling her eyes at how weak her bedroom lock was.

What if she was a murderer? A murderer coming to kill her. She'd only need a penny.

"Quinn." Rachel called again as she tumbled into the bedroom, eyes frantically searching for her wife.

She caught sight of Quinn, and her heart squeezed because it was exactly like that time she'd walked into the animal rescue in her pajamas to find Quinn sitting on the floor by the table, knees pulled up and hands over her ears. Five years ago.

The only difference now was that Quinn sat on the carpet on the far side of Rachel's bed, and Rachel's room looked like a tornado had rolled right through it. Which was new. Rachel was shocked for a second, but then her sense came back and she rushed stiltedly towards her wife through the mess.

"_Honey_." She murmured, kneeling in front of Quinn. She put her hands on Quinn's knees and squeezed. "Baby, open your eyes. It's just me. You're okay."

Quinn didn't respond. She rocked backwards and thumped her head on the wall and Rachel winced. She reached up and covered the hands on Quinn's ears with her own, pleased that Quinn didn't flinch. Maybe she knew Rachel's presence. Rachel could see the tears on Quinn's cheeks and she cursed herself again for leaving.

Rachel gently pried one of the hands off Quinn's ears, squeezing it firmly when Quinn struggled against her. "Quinn, look at me. Open your eyes, bear." She coaxed softly, a little desperately.

Quinn breathed heavily through her nose, nostrils flaring. Her lips stayed pressed together, letting only a whine through, and she shook her head around, thumping it against the wall again. Rachel ran a hand through blonde hair and held the back of Quinn's head to prevent it from happening a third time.

"You're okay, Quinn." Rachel whispered, repeatedly ducking to see if Quinn had opened her eyes. Quinn coughed into her knees. "You're alright. We're okay."

Rachel was barely keeping her cool. "I'm sorry I left, honey. I just went to the store. I'm back. I'm here. I'm with you." She assured, wracking her mind desperately for images to put in Quinn's head.

Quinn's mouth finally opened, only because she was having trouble breathing through her nose.

"Baby, _listen_." Rachel urged, tipping forward so that she was speaking right into Quinn's ear. "Remember that show we watched last night with the sea turtles? If you could have any sea animal as a pet, which one would it be?"

Rachel already knew the answer. Quinn would like a pod of killer whales. They'd make lovely pets.

Quinn just coughed again, struggling a little bit with the hand that Rachel was holding. Rachel didn't let go and Quinn didn't open her eyes.

Rachel placed Quinn's hand over her own chest and exaggerated her breaths. "Just breathe, baby." She murmured, heart clenching at the whine that elicited.

"In…" Rachel encouraged shakily, sucking in a breath of air. "…and out."

Quinn was having none of it.

Rachel felt about ready to devolve into some kind of panic attack herself. "Okay, okay, bear." She soothed, brushing Quinn's hair out of her face. "Just think-think of lions, okay?" she urged impulsively. "Think of Madge at the zoo, your favorite."

Tears ran down Rachel's face as she spoke quietly into Quinn's ear. She was basically draped over her little ball of a wife. "Think of the big fluffy dog in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. The one whose eyes you can't see. I don't know his name."

Quinn stopped rocking, probably because Rachel had her pinned in place now.

"Think of the fox in _Robin Hood_, baby. And Little John, the big bear." Rachel whispered, lips pressed against the shell of Quinn's ear. "Think of Scooby-Doo and Gromit and O'Malley the alley cat."

Quinn was obviously trying to comply. She twisted her head back in frustration and Rachel's hand prevented it from knocking into the wall.

"Careful, bear." Rachel murmured, tears in her own eyes. She didn't know how to deal with this. Quinn could usually calm down after a few minutes with Rachel talking to her. "I love you, Quinn. You're okay."

Rachel searched for more pictures.

"Quinn," she whispered, pulling back a little to see that hazel eyes were finally open, pleading with Rachel to help her. Rachel kissed Quinn's head and squeezed her hand. "Remember the dogs in _Homeward Bound_? Which one was your favorite?"

Quinn blinked her eyes shut tightly, focusing on breathing. "Why-why did you _leave_?" she cried suddenly.

Rachel choked on her breath. She pulled Quinn's head to her chest. "I'm sorry." She whispered tearfully. "I shouldn't have. I was angry and I went to the store and got us some things for movie night. I'm sorry I scared you and that I wasn't here."

Quinn fisted her hands in Rachel's shirt.

"My favorite was Sassy." Rachel continued uncertainly, still trying to give Quinn something to focus on. Sassy was like Rachel in cat form. Quinn stayed quiet and Rachel stroked her hair.

"Shadow." Quinn whispered after a minute, face pressed into Rachel's shoulder.

Rachel had never been so relieved in her life. She tapped Quinn's lips, and Quinn sniffled loudly and shook her hair out.

"He's the golden retriever." Rachel stated, half-smiling, still crying. "I knew he would be your favorite."

"I'm sorry." Quinn murmured in a strangled voice. She pulled on Rachel's shirt, trying to bring her wife as close to her as possible.

Rachel surveyed the room quickly. Blankets and pillows on the floor, clothes strewn about, hamper knocked over, lamp on its side. Nothing outrageous. Quinn probably just hadn't been able to stay still.

"Everything's okay, bear." Rachel assured softly, rubbing Quinn's back.

Quinn breathed deeply for a minute. "His name's Edison." She whispered.

Rachel frowned. Had she missed something? "Whose name is Edison, baby?"

Quinn sat up, still holding onto Rachel, and Rachel wiped the tears off of her face and brushed her blonde hair back from where it stuck to her forehead. "The dog from-from _Chitty Chitty Bang Bang_." Quinn explained, voice raw. "The one who looks like a bear from the back. His-his name is Edison."

Rachel smiled fully. God, this had been a difficult one. Quinn just been shot up into space.

"Edison." Rachel repeated. "He's fluffy, like Cloud. You could take him to live with the polar bears with you two."

Quinn nodded absently. Rachel wiped Quinn's cheeks again, and then her own. Couple of messes. Quinn closed her eyes and held onto Rachel, and Rachel wrapped her up like a koala.

"Tired, bear?" she asked quietly.

Quinn could only hum. She stuck a hand up blindly to wipe the tears off Rachel's cheeks.

Rachel was exhausted as well. She kissed Quinn's head and reclined back against the carpet, trying to think of something to sing. Quinn wrapped her in her octopus trap, and Rachel finally realized that they both smelled like maple syrup. She smiled to herself.

And she sang "Hushabye Mountain," even though it was the middle of the afternoon and her dads were probably worrying and she was lying on the floor. Both Rachel and Quinn needed it.

~oooooooooo~

"Little bear."

It was whispered in Rachel's ear, and she opened her eyes expecting to be blinded by the sun. It was surprisingly dim, early evening, and Rachel could feel Quinn's breath on her face. And then she realized she was on the floor, and everything came rushing back.

They'd gone round some kind of bend, right off the deep end. And were now circling back to the beginning.

"Rachel, I'm sorry." Quinn whispered, lips pressed to Rachel's cheek. "Are you awake?"

Rachel groaned exaggeratedly and rolled over to crack her back. Which was definitely _not_ normal. She felt like she'd been snapped in half. How long had they been on the damn floor?

"Are you okay?" Quinn questioned worriedly, tracing her eyes over Rachel's body. Rachel really didn't know where her limbs were at the moment, but she nodded up at Quinn. Her wife looked beautiful as ever. Quinn's eyes were a bit shiny, cheeks flushed, hair messed, and clothes wrinkled, and Rachel smiled at her because her eyes were clear again.

Rachel sat up with Quinn's help, moaning continuously. She glanced around and was surprised again by the state of her room.

"I'm sorry." Quinn said again, gaze locked onto Rachel's. "I'll clean it up. I got-I got-you left and I couldn't…hold still. I couldn't hold still. I think I was angry."

Rachel tipped forward and kissed Quinn's lips. "It's okay." She whispered confidently, leaning her forehead against Quinn's. "I shouldn't have left. I'll help you clean it up."

Quinn nodded a bit dejectedly. She reached behind her and grabbed a fleece blanket that was lying in a heap and folded it up nicely, presenting it to Rachel with a half-smile.

Rachel took it with a grin. "At least nothing's broken." She said easily.

Quinn's smile dropped.

"Let's talk it all out now." Rachel suggested immediately. She tapped Quinn's knees to make sure she was focused. "We don't want it to simmer. And we still have to watch _Grease_ tonight."

Quinn nodded quickly, eyes fixed on Rachel's.

"I'm sorry." Rachel said, figuring that would be the best way to start out. "First, I'm sorry I left, bear. I-I told myself you could calm yourself down, but I just shouldn't…I shouldn't have left."

Quinn puffed out her cheeks and watched Rachel intently. Rachel loved that about her. She was a listener. No interruptions.

"And I'm sorry I made you feel like I would…_pressure_ you into taking a job." Rachel continued, dropping her gaze to Quinn's knees. Quinn reached out and tapped her chin, and Rachel looked back up into her wife's understanding eyes. "I don't want you to feel any pressure at all to accept that job just because it's there. You'll find somewhere in New York with bears, and that's where you'll work because that's what would make you happy."

No doubt about it.

Quinn smiled slightly. "You said I don't need bears."

Rachel shook her head and drummed her hands over Quinn's knees. If there was anybody in the world who needed a bear in her life, it was Quinn.

Quinn got up and sat on the bed and Rachel leaned backwards into her legs. "Here is Edward Bear," Quinn said clearly, playing with Rachel's hair and letting her eyes drift off as she tried to remember the words.

Rachel tilted her head into Quinn's leg and listened.

Quinn pressed her feet against Rachel's butt and continued. "Here is Edward Bear…coming downstairs now… bump, bump, bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin. It is, as far as he knows, the only way of coming downstairs, but sometimes he feels that there really is another way, if only he could stop bumping for a moment and think of it." Quinn tilted forward and wrapped her arms around Rachel's shoulders. "And then he feels that perhaps there isn't."

Rachel stayed silent while Quinn tried to find the right words for whatever she wanted to say. Hopefully there were more, because Rachel was completely lost.

"I'm like Edward Bear bumping down the stairs." Quinn said, nose pressed into Rachel's hair. Rachel nodded, accepting that. Whatever it meant. "I-I see only one way for our lives to go. And that's with you on Broadway and me as a vet in New York."

Rachel nodded again, slower this time as she started to grasp Quinn's point.

"And then sometimes, like today, when you-when…I just-I think maybe there's a better way to get there." Quinn said stiltedly. "Today was like a break in the steps. But now-now I know there isn't. And…tomorrow we'll keep bumping down the stairs and we'll get to the bottom eventually."

Rachel smiled and twisted an arm above her to pat Quinn's cheek.

Quinn shook her hair around. "Or the top, really. We're going up, not down." She amended. "Rachel, I fell for a shooting star and I'm going where she takes me, and that will make me the happiest woman in the world."

Rachel's smile split her face, which she pressed into Quinn's leg. Quinn put both hands on the top of Rachel's head and lolled it around fondly.

"So I'm sorry I didn't tell you." Quinn finished. "And I love you."

Rachel tilted her head all the way backwards to look up at Quinn with a smile. Quinn took the opportunity to kiss her upside down.

"And you're a mess." Quinn murmured against her lips. She pulled back and tried to pat down Rachel's hair.

Rachel stared up at her, reaching to tug on Quinn's ears. "You should see yourself, Edward Bear."

"Say you love me." Quinn stated quietly, eyes sparkling, hair sticking up, lines on the left side of her face from where she'd been pressed into Rachel.

Rachel smiled. "I love you."

"Say it again." Quinn instructed. She kissed Rachel's shoulder. "Please."

"I love you, bear. I love you forever and ever, a hundred minus a day, until we're old like elephants and eat nothing but chocolate pudding." Rachel assured easily. "I love you."

Quinn sighed contentedly. She pulled Rachel to her feet so that they could clean up the bedroom.

Hiram and Leroy were sitting on the couch when Rachel and Quinn descended the stairs twenty minutes later. Leroy surged forward to give a bashful Quinn a hug and Rachel found herself pulled into Hiram's arms. Hiram pulled an amused face at their mussed hair and wrinkled clothes.

"All good?" he asked Rachel quietly, spinning her around.

Rachel chuckled. "Yes. Perfect." She assured.

Hiram nodded and stepped back, clapping his hands together loudly.

"Good!" He declared jovially. He swung a finger in Leroy and Quinn's direction. "Because I need back up. Your dad just told me that if the house was on fire, he'd choose to rescue his golf clubs over me. Can you _believe_ that?"

Rachel chuckled, glad for this random distraction. Her dads were wonderful. And yes, she could believe that.

Leroy stopped murmuring with Quinn to defend himself. "Uh, no. Don't even try that." He said, pointing at his husband. "I assumed you had already gotten out of the house, and we were talking about inanimate objects."

Hiram rolled his eyes. "_Golf clubs_." He muttered.

Quinn straightened Leroy's collar and brushed the lint off his shoulders before pushing him to sit next to Hiram. He scoffed at her, but threw a wink over his shoulder and swatted at her messy hair. Rachel and Quinn moved to sit on the loveseat. It was blissfully quiet.

The little bird had moved on. Maybe somebody had shot it.

"Quinn, if your house was on fire, what would you rescue?" Hiram asked, still looking for somebody to back him up. For validation that "golf clubs" wasn't an acceptable answer.

"Rachel." Quinn said immediately. She grabbed Rachel's feet and pulled them into her lap, and Rachel reached out and ruffled her hair fondly. Quinn ducked away from her and into the cushions.

Hiram nodded approvingly.

"No, Rachel doesn't count." Leroy interrupted.

Rachel was a bit offended. She definitely could not be counted on to navigate her way out of a burning building by herself. Quinn would need to rescue her.

"The pets don't count either." Leroy continued, seeing that Quinn's mouth had opened to speak again.

"I'd rescue my Tony." Rachel offered loudly. Any chance to bring that up was a chance she seized.

Quinn squeezed her feet. "Okay, I'd rescue Rachel's Tony." She said to Leroy.

Rachel melted again.

Leroy looked like he was melting as well. "No, you have to-you have to pick…" he gave up and sighed resignedly. "That's a good answer."

Hiram looked slightly disappointed in himself that he'd chosen to save his own golf clubs.

Rachel crawled over to her wife until she was lying on top of her. Quinn grunted exaggeratedly at the weight.

"Hey, don't squash her." Leroy warned Rachel. He got up to put in the movie. "We like her. And no funny business."

Quinn's ears turned red. Rachel's dads smirked.

Rachel ignored them. "I got you Animal Crackers." She told Quinn, rubbing her nose against Quinn's cheek.

Quinn pulled her into a bear hug. "You're perfect."

Rachel chuckled. "And gummy bears."

"Perfect little bear." Quinn smiled.

Rachel pulled herself up to kiss the corner of Quinn's mouth.

"_Hey_!" Hiram interrupted, pointing the remote in their direction. "I will separate you!"

Quinn hummed along with the opening music on _Grease_ and it rumbled through Rachel's body. And then "Summer Nights" started, and Rachel just had to get up and sing with her wife. Hiram and Leroy joined as well, simply because this was the Berry house. It was almost required.

Rachel's dads were a little softer with Quinn than usual, but then they saw Rachel throwing gummy bears at the side of Quinn's head and joined in.

Rachel looked at her own smiling Edward Bear and knew they'd get to the top of those stairs.


	15. Chapter 15

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 15: Making Our Way Back from Mars**

Rachel wondered why graduations always fell on the hottest day of the year. She didn't even care that Quinn's vet school commencement ceremony would be held indoors, because they were _outdoors_ right now and Rachel felt like she was living in an oven.

She'd shared this with Quinn and her wife had compared her to a gingerbread man. And then mused about what it would be like to live as gingerbread people.

Rachel learned to just keep her thoughts about the weather to herself.

It was an intense, dry heat, and Rachel was grateful for the shade of the forest path on which she and Quinn were walking. A short adventure before graduation, Quinn had said, and Rachel had agreed because her wife was an hour away from becoming a doctor.

Rachel didn't even care that her feet were aching because she never wore the right fucking shoes. She still hadn't learned.

But she was in the mindset where she was ready to drape herself across a puddle if Quinn asked. She'd be Quinn's footrest. Fetch her drinks, fluff her hair, because Quinn was graduating vet school and Rachel had never been so proud of anybody in her life.

So Rachel nodded and smiled and laughed as Quinn walked with her through the forest path, pointing out lizards and nice flowers and daring her to eat mushrooms and wishing that they would come across a wild bear.

There was nobody else on the leafy path, and Rachel could barely see the sky because of the tree canopy. She wondered if she would be able to survive if she was stranded out there.

Definitely not. She'd end up in a tree, starving and dehydrated and dying from the elements.

Quinn would probably survive because she'd just have all the animals take care of her.

Then Rachel tripped on a root and Quinn caught her arm and steadied her with a laugh.

"Careful, little bear." She chuckled into Rachel's ear.

Rachel leaned into her side, eyeing the greenery along the path to make sure nothing was about to slither out and attack her. "Guess what?" she asked playfully, poking Quinn in the ribs.

Quinn's eyes were bright. "What, sweetheart?"

"You'll be a doctor in an hour." Rachel stated. She'd been counting down the days, and then the hours, and she'd probably be doing the minutes while Quinn was up on that stage.

Quinn flushed and nodded. "That's true."

Rachel moved in front of Quinn and started walking backwards. She knew Quinn wouldn't let her trip.

"Doctor Quinn Berry-Fabray." Rachel recited with a grin.

Quinn tried to contain her smile. "Are you proud of me, baby?"

Rachel stopped walking on a small wooden bridge that went over a dried-up creek. Quinn continued right into her arms.

"Every day, bear." Rachel assured, hugging her wife tightly. "You're so smart and you've worked so hard and you deserve this so much. And all of your friends are proud, and our animals, and Pooh Bear would be proud, but I'm the proudest." Rachel said resolutely. "And don't ever forget that."

Quinn kissed Rachel's forehead and backed her up so that she was leaning against the wooden railing. She tapped Rachel's lips and then grabbed her ears. "It's because of you." She said earnestly. "You make everything better. If I hadn't met you and Barnaby, this never would've happened."

Rachel tilted her head. "That goes both ways." She stated, letting Quinn kiss both of her cheeks.

As many nights as Rachel had stayed up with Quinn to study and schedule, Quinn had done the same, losing sleep in favor of singing and dancing and practicing.

Quinn swayed Rachel from side to side by her ears. "I knew when I met you an adventure was going to happen." She proclaimed fondly.

Rachel smiled. "Really?"

Quinn nodded, eyes sparkling. "You told me you were psychotic. Of course an adventure was bound to happen. Crazy person."

Rachel scoffed jokingly and shoved at Quinn's chest. Instead of backing away, Quinn leaned down and caught Rachel's lips, trapping the bottom one between her teeth. Rachel hummed softly and opened her mouth, and Quinn stepped forward until she was pressed fully against her wife.

Rachel was only a little bit worried about flipping backwards over the railing. It was a five foot drop into a pit of mud. Which would be fun.

"Quinn…we're in public." Rachel reminded thickly as Quinn's hands trailed down her hips.

Quinn chuckled and nibbled at Rachel's ear. "This is on my bucket list." She whispered.

Rachel was certain that one of them would have a heat stroke before they got out of the forest. It would probably be Rachel, which would definitely be an adventure.

"People might see." Rachel tried again, only half-heartedly. She made no effort to stop Quinn's trailing hands or her soft lips.

"There's nobody out here except bears." Quinn informed huskily.

That was reassuring.

"And I'm about to become a doctor." Quinn continued, brushing the dark hair off of Rachel's sticky forehead and eyeing her sneakily. "Doctor Berry-Fabray, DVM."

That definitely turned Rachel on a little bit. A hot doctor wife. How could it not? Quinn was an expert at pushing all of Rachel's buttons by now.

Rachel just groaned and let go and leaned fully back against the wooden rail. If somebody saw, well…hopefully it would be worth it. It probably would be. It always was.

Quinn chuckled into Rachel's neck when she realized she'd won, grinning innocently even while her hands roamed over Rachel's breasts. Rachel watched Quinn's delighted face as she squeezed them, unable to stop herself from smiling because her boobs just seemed to make Quinn so happy.

Rachel probably needed to go flipping backwards over the railing. At least the mud would cool her down.

"You know black bears don't have to be black." Quinn informed breathily, sucking on a spot on Rachel's throat. Rachel squirmed beneath her. "They-they can be brown and white and cinnamon and blonde."

Rachel hummed absently. "Blonde bears like you." She remarked, focused on trying to undo Quinn's jeans.

Quinn nodded, batting her hands away. "I'm the one graduating. I get to do what I want today." she informed with a smile. "Please." She tacked on, probably in case what she said came off as pushy or impolite.

Rachel snorted and nodded. She didn't really care who did what, as long as somebody did something. Quinn unbuttoned Rachel's pants and slid a hand down the front, under the hem of Rachel's underwear.

She looked pleased with herself and she kissed Rachel's lips adoringly. "Somebody's excited." She proclaimed loudly.

Yes, tell _all_ the forest creatures that Rachel Berry was aroused.

"_Quinn_." Rachel pleaded, squeezing her fingers into Quinn's hips. "If you're-if you're gonna do it, do it _now_."

Quinn obliged and Rachel moaned, clasping a hand over her mouth because she didn't want to yell into a quiet, echoing forest. She might scare the cinnamon bears, and then they would attack her with her pants around her thighs. That would be a fun story.

The only sounds came from birds chirping and wind rustling the trees. Rachel was fully expecting somebody to waltz around the curve in the path, and her plan if that happened was just to flip backwards and hope for the best.

"And the white black bears are easily distinguishable from polar bears." Quinn continued like she was talking to herself. But then she brushed Rachel's hair away from her face and leaned in to whisper in her ear. "You're so beautiful, baby."

Quinn wrapped her free arm around Rachel's back where it was digging into the railing.

Rachel's toes tingled. She choked out an "I love you," and then clutched desperately at Quinn's body to keep herself on the right side of the bridge railing as she came.

Quinn held up her up, grinning brightly, and buttoned her pants up and kissed all over Rachel's face until Rachel could breathe again.

"And black bears can climb trees." Quinn said like she'd never stopped talking. She held Rachel tightly and pressed her nose into dark hair. "They could be above us right now. Grizzlies aren't as arboreal because they're too big."

And then all Rachel could picture was a bear in the trees watching them have sex. It was odd. And then terrifying.

So Rachel climbed onto Quinn's back because her own legs were too wobbly, and she let her wife carry her back to campus for graduation.

Rachel sat with Sam after she'd changed into a summer dress and fixed her admittedly wild sex hair. Quinn had done the same. They'd see the rest of their friends in New York in a week, so Sam was the only one who'd driven up.

Quinn was not pleased about saying goodbye to free trips to SeaWorld.

There were only a hundred graduates and Quinn's name was about halfway through. When it was called, Quinn Berry-Fabray, it was magnificent and momentous and a landmark occasion because Quinn had successfully completed six years of school with Rachel by her side and a dream in her mind.

And Rachel knew what it was like to finally achieve your dreams.

She watched with tears in her eyes as her gorgeous, golden-haired, kind-hearted, brilliantly smiling wife accepted her doctorate of veterinary medicine.

And then Rachel found her voice and she screamed her head off, clapping as loudly as possible and making a fool of herself and trying to avoid being deafened by Sam's ear-piercing whistles.

"That's my girl!" Sam yelled, pumping a fist.

Rachel elbowed him in the ribs. "That's my bear!" She screamed, aware that her voice could travel further than Sam's and Quinn could pick it out in a crowd.

It wasn't really a "yelling" kind of ceremony, but Rachel had never been one for self-control.

Quinn flushed and smiled at her from the stage, nose scrunched up and head shaking, and Rachel mouthed "I love you." Quinn's eyes were shining and Rachel was crying and Sam was yelling and Doctor Quinn Berry-Fabray was ready to take on the world.

~ooooooooooooooo~

Unfortunately, Doctor Quinn Berry-Fabray woke up with pink eye on the day she and Rachel were due to begin their 3000 mile drive to New York with Char and Benjamin in the backseat.

Rachel was fumbling around in the bathroom at five a.m., trying to figure out how to brush her teeth and wondering why the fuck she was up at _five a.m_. and if they had any towels left that hadn't been packed, when Quinn came stumbling in, pawing pathetically at her eye and swaying sideways into the doorway.

"Rachel, I'm blind." She proclaimed dramatically, hair a fluffy mess and red lines on her face from where she'd been pressed into Rachel and the covers.

Rachel's first reaction was to laugh. She turned around and gently grabbed Quinn's wrist to pry the hand off her face. She grimaced immediately. Even at five in the morning she could tell it was pink eye. And it was gross. Quinn's eye was sealed shut.

Quinn puffed out her cheeks and tried to step forward to give Rachel a hug, but Rachel put a hand on her chest and held her at bay.

"No, baby." She said sympathetically, slowly waking up because her wife was contagious and would probably infect their whole house if she didn't do something about it. "You have conjunctivitis."

Quinn nodded. "I know. Open my eye, please."

Rachel grimaced again. That was not a fun instruction to receive. She sat Quinn on the toilet seat and kissed her head, figuring that was a non-toxic area, and wet a cloth with warm water to dab around Quinn's eye. Quinn played with the strings on Rachel's pajama pants.

As Rachel wiped away the crust, which was just a word that made her want to _vomit_, Quinn was able to blink her eye open. It was red and watery, as expected, and a little scary. Like a Rage virus victim.

"I don't know how I got it." Quinn murmured. "I haven't seen anybody else with it."

Rachel hummed and awwed sympathetically while washed the area. And then she pulled Quinn's pajamas off and stood her wife in the shower.

"Wash it all off, baby." Rachel instructed, thoroughly disinfecting her hands in the sink. "Don't touch your eye, and don't touch anything when you get out, like doorknobs, okay?"

Quinn nodded. "I know how to deal with pink eye, Rachel." She drawled, rolling her eyes and rubbing absently at the red one.

Rachel pointed at the motion with a raised eyebrow. "You have eight pets and one wife. Do not give us your disease, please."

Quinn's lips twitched. She shook her head.

And Rachel should've known that she was doomed from the start. Somebody was bound to get it. No 3000 mile journey could possibly go well.

Charizard vomited in the backseat in Nevada, and Rachel shut her fingers in the car door in Wyoming, but Quinn's eye had stopped crusting by the time they reached Nebraska. It was still red and watery and itchy, but not quite so disgusting.

Rachel was willing to get within arm's reach of it.

"Baby, lie back and go to sleep." Rachel instructed when Quinn offered to drive for the tenth time. "Rest your eye."

It was an odd statement. Quinn scrunched up her face at it.

"Sleeping doesn't help pink eye, Rachel." Quinn countered with a smile. "And driving for hours on end literally makes people insane."

Rachel squinted ahead at the empty road lit by her headlights. "Sleeping helps _everything_."

And she was kind of a lost cause in the insanity department.

Quinn glanced behind her at the peacefully slumbering dog in the backseat. The rabbit in the small kennel next to him was sitting and watching Quinn with wide, unblinking eyes like he'd been stalking her all night.

Quinn swiveled back around and pawed at her eye.

"_Quinn_!" Rachel chided loudly.

Quinn's hands automatically shot to the hand sanitizer in the drink holder. Rachel had been plastering it over everything during the drive. Quinn shook her head around and slumped back in her seat. "Sorry." She murmured quietly. "It's instinct. We're animals, babe."

Rachel sighed exasperatedly and reached over to squeeze Quinn's thigh. It was under a blanket, which covered everything except Quinn's head. She looked warm and soft and Rachel would kiss all over her face if she wasn't so sure she'd end up diseased.

She pointed to the pile of rest stop candy at Quinn's feet. "Maybe eat some of that, baby. Distract yourself."

Quinn dove right into the M&Ms.

Rachel kept her eyes on the road. There was something in the middle of it, rapidly approaching. A small, dark lump, and Rachel lined up the car so that she wouldn't run over whatever it was. When it was finally illuminated in the headlights, Quinn gasped and shot up straight in her seat.

"Babe, Rachel, that's a turtle!" she cried, quickly twisting in her seat to watch the animal disappear behind them. "Can we get it out of the road?"

Rachel only pulled over at ninety miles an hour because there were no other cars on the highway. She rolled her eyes a bit because they'd passed _a lot_ of road kill on their trip so far, and there would only be more to come. Possums, armadillos, raccoons, cats, skunks.

But Quinn wanted to save a turtle.

Quinn dumped her blanket and Pooh Bear and her pillow and her sweatshirt and the bags of candy in Rachel's lap and exited the car without looking back. Rachel could only laugh. She took the opportunity to make sure Char was still breathing and to rub hand sanitizer on Quinn's seatbelt.

Then she twisted around to look out her window and smiled when she saw Quinn crouched down in the middle of the road, probably talking to the turtle. She picked him up, keeping him as low to the ground as possible, and jogged him over the road in the direction he'd been heading. He was deposited on the other side of a low fence so that he could get to the retention pond, and Quinn stood and watched him for a few seconds to make sure he would get there without help.

Rachel smiled to herself when Quinn said something else to the turtle and returned to the car.

"You just saved your first animal as a vet, Quinn." Rachel remarked, dumping all of Quinn's stuff back into her lap.

Quinn grinned. "That doesn't count. Anyone could've done that."

Her eye was red, a little demonic, and her hair stuck up from where she'd been sleeping against the window, but she looked pleased that she'd helped a turtle have a nicer day. Rachel had to lean over the center console and kiss her.

And then she hand-sanitized her hands and arms and face, even though she wasn't sure if that was safe or not, but really, how poisonous could Purell be? And then she started the car again to pull back out onto the highway.

Quinn rubbed sleepily at her itchy, red eye.

~ooooooooooooo~

Quinn lost her sunglasses at a rest stop in Iowa, and Benjamin escaped his cage at the hotel in Indiana, but they all arrived safely in New York City after only four days of driving. Rachel contracted conjunctivitis, of course, as did Quinn's other eye, and nobody was surprised.

The first thing they did after the moving van and animals arrived was go to IKEA to pick out a new bed because theirs was ten years old.

From one hell to another.

Rachel was lost. There was no doubt about that, because everybody got lost in IKEA. It was physically impossible to walk through the store without losing yourself. Losing your mind and a bit of your soul and stuffing your face with meatballs before having a breakdown in the children's department.

Rachel stood with Puck and Brittany in the kitchen department, spinning in one spot and texting Quinn for directions to the beds. Quinn was there with Santana. _Somehow_ they'd found their way.

Rachel was stuck with her two idiot friends who'd just _had_ to stop for meatballs.

"You look like a crazy person, Rachel." Puck remarked, leaning easily against a kitchen table. He gestured to her red eye and her spinning. "Like an escaped mental patient. People think you're gonna kill them."

Brittany hummed agreeably. She was trying to juggle three plastic apples. "Like a zombie." She commented.

Rachel huffed and stood in one spot, glaring furiously at her phone.

**Quinn: Where are you?**

**Rachel: Kitchen department****.**

**Quinn: Why are you there?**

**Rachel: I DON'T KNOW, QUINN. HELP ME.**

**Quinn: Baby.**

**Quinn: We didn't even go through the kitchen department. Can you go back the way you came?**

Rachel was standing literally in the middle of the store with four different directions to choose from. They all looked the same. Retracing her steps was not an option.

**Rachel: No.**

**Quinn: :(**

**Quinn: Santana says we took a shortcut through the dining department. Can you find that?**

Puck laughed at Rachel's expression. She seized one of the apples from Brittany's hands and threw it at his chest. He only laughed harder.

**Rachel: NO. WE CAN'T FIND ANYTHING. **

**Rachel: I THINK I'M GOING TO DIE IN HERE. GET ME OUT, BABY.**

They'd find her body under a tiny kitchen table, surrounded by plastic fruit and mountains of plates and silverware. Rachel had accepted it.

**Quinn: D: **

**Quinn: Just follow the blue line around until you get to us. It has to happen eventually.**

**Rachel: HOW ABOUT WE GO HOME? WE DON'T NEED A BED. WE CAN SLEEP ON THE FLOOR.**

**Rachel: Oh wait, we just found the dining area.**

_Puck_ had found the dining area and dragged an uncooperative Rachel along behind him. Rachel could already see a sign for the bed section. IKEA was just designed to make her crazy. To send her around and around until she gave up and bought everything in sight. It was genius.

**Quinn: Good :D**

**Quinn: San says to keep Brittany away from the plastic grapes when you go through the dining department.**

**Quinn: Also, xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo.**

Rachel smiled at her phone and relayed the message to Puck. And then she caught sight of Quinn and Santana and just barely restrained herself from running into her wife's arms.

_God_, she'd been on a journey.

Santana pulled a face when Quinn wrapped Rachel in a hug. "What a nice diseased pair you two are." She drawled, gesturing at their eyes.

Quinn's was fading, but Rachel's was still bright red and watery and she tried to look angry at Santana, but it just came off as pathetic. Quinn kissed her head.

"I just barely stopped Sunny Delight from buying a racecar bed." Santana continued, nodding her head in Quinn's direction. "She was ready to take it home and everything."

Rachel smiled.

Quinn shook her head around and shoved Santana's shoulder. "I didn't want to _buy_ it. I just said it was cool." She put an arm around Rachel's shoulders. "For when we have kids. I know _I_ would've liked a racecar bed."

"Me too, bear." Rachel assured. She'd actually had a princess bed until she was ten. She grew too big for it, and _extremely_ attached to it, and her fathers had to sneak it out of the house while Rachel was at school to replace it with a normal bed. Rachel had thrown a tantrum and slept on the floor for three days straight.

"So, what sort of activities will you be using your bed for?" Puck asked reasonably, gazing thoughtfully at the line of mattresses and trying to keep a straight face.

Rachel rolled her eyes.

"King-sized and soft, so that you sink into it." Quinn described obliviously. "Like a marshmallow." Her eyes widened at the thought and Rachel laughed.

"And they need to be able to bounce on it." Brittany contributed.

Puck wiggled his eyebrows at Santana. "Is that what you do on yours?"

Rachel didn't know why she'd brought these people along. She turned to Quinn, who was pressing her hand repeatedly into a Tempurpedic pillow, fascinated. Quinn winked at Rachel when she noticed her wife watching.

"If we got one of these it would mold around your pretty little head forever." Quinn mused. "And then when you're gone, like at work, I'd have a cast of your face. Like how people make statues."

Rachel faltered because that was extremely unnerving and creepy, and then she imagined a statue made with a mold of her face and figured that it would be the most beautiful thing in the world.

Quinn laughed at her expression. "Somebody will make a statue of you someday, Rachel."

Oh, Rachel would make sure of it. She smiled and put a hand on the small of Quinn's back. "Do you want a special mattress, baby? Like memory foam or one that you can move up or down or anything?"

Quinn shook her head and tapped Rachel's cheek. "As long as you're in it, that's all I need."

Santana gagged. Brittany shoved her lightly and she fell sideways into a large cage of pillows, which rolled several feet while Santana clung to it and tried to regain her balance. When she was steady again, she brushed herself off and glanced around nonchalantly like it had never happened.

Picking the mattress was easy. They all looked the same, so Rachel and Quinn selected the softest one at the best price and followed the little blue line all the way out of IKEA. They'd almost had to hold hands like an elementary school class, but Puck had protested and said that it was every man for himself.

If somebody was left in the store, they were lost for good.

Nobody got left behind.

In fact, everybody was at the Carnegie Hill apartment trying to maneuver a brand new mattress up the narrow staircase. It was reminiscent of moving out of their first apartment, so Rachel was nostalgic, but she was also on the brink of insanity.

"TWIST!" Santana yelled, eyes wild and hair frizzy and balancing precariously on a step near the top of the mattress. "TWIST IT AROUND!"

Rachel was pressed into the wall at the bottom of the mattress. She had no power to "twist" anything. Puck seemed to be "twisting" enough for all of them, if how he was draped over the banister was any indication.

Blaine decided to interrupt, voice strained. "I think we need to set this down, and think calmly for-"

"We can't set it down!" Kurt screeched. "It will slide backwards and crush us!"

"Okay, maybe-"

"TWIST!" Santana screamed.

"BABY, SHUT UP!" Brittany yelled from her spot next to Rachel.

Santana quieted. Rachel hoped she hadn't collapsed.

Rachel managed to smile when Quinn's soft voice joined the fray. "Maybe we should make it vertical?" she called out uncertainly.

"Why did you buy the fucking biggest mattress in the store?" Santana cried out.

"Language." Quinn chided from wherever she was.

"Hey." Puck interrupted. "Listen to the doctor. Let's do it vertical."

He smirked at that, but then Blaine and Rachel shifted their side of the mattress up and Puck found himself bent backwards over the handrail.

"This is not a good idea." Kurt sang out.

The mattress wouldn't stand vertically because it was too tall for the staircase. Rachel rolled her eyes and resorted back to their first plan. "Twist it!" she yelled. "TWIST!"

She heard Santana laughing hopelessly from up ahead.

But then the first half of the mattress went around the bend, and Rachel was only mildly alarmed because really, was her mattress supposed to bend like that? Her end followed, and then the trip up to the second landing and into the bedroom was easy. Or _relatively_ easily, because it was still lugging a three hundred pound mattress up the stairs.

It was dark by the time everything was settled. Rachel and Quinn's friends fled with ice packs for their hands and for Puck's back and Blaine's face, and Rachel promised to help them move if they ever needed it, secure in the knowledge that that wouldn't be happening any time soon.

And when Rachel finally fell into bed that night, it was _home_. In New York with Barnaby and Cornelius at her feet and Jelly at her side and Quinn bundled up next to her, red eye watering but smiling tiredly.

Quinn wrapped her arms around Rachel and blew a raspberry into her neck. Rachel squealed delightedly into Quinn's shoulder and Quinn held herself up with her elbows and grinned down at her wife.

"I'm sorry I gave you conjunctivitis." She said, not sounding very apologetic.

Rachel narrowed her eyes playfully.

"But it makes your eyes really shiny and cute." Quinn complimented, tapping a thumb against Rachel's cheek. "It brings out the brown."

Rachel hummed. "I'm sure."

"Give me a kiss." Quinn demanded, pursing her lips and lowering her head.

Rachel turned away playfully, pressing her face into the Dalmatian pillow. She mumbled unintelligibly into it and Quinn tickled her sides. When Rachel still didn't respond, Quinn stopped supporting her own weight and lay fully on top of her wife.

Rachel groaned into fluffy blonde hair. "Big bear." She laughed.

Quinn picked her head up. "I think I've almost got an interview at the Central Park Zoo." She informed with a smile. "So you have to give me a kiss for that."

Rachel gasped and wrapped her arms around Quinn's back. "Really?"

Quinn nodded proudly.

"What about the Bronx?" Rachel questioned, tapping Quinn's lips.

Quinn shrugged. "Central Park has a polar bear. I'll get to the Bronx eventually."

Rachel hummed excitedly and brought Quinn's head down to kiss her lips. "Of course you will."

Quinn pressed her nose into Rachel's cheek. "And you'll be auditioning soon and back on Broadway, and I'm just so proud of us, little bear."

Rachel laughed. "Us and our red eyes."

"We're a pair." Quinn murmured, nodding in agreement. "We go together. Forever, like albatrosses. Or beavers. You're stuck with me for the rest of your life."

Rachel reached up and squished Quinn's cheeks together. "Promise?" she asked, making her wife smile and pout and frown and pull the fishy face.

Quinn nodded. Rachel let go of her cheeks.

"I like our bed." Quinn whispered loudly. Her eyes sparkled. "I like this part best." She gestured down at Rachel's body. "This cuddly, warm, beautiful little thing that came with it. Did that cost extra?"

Rachel flushed and pushed at Quinn's grinning face. Quinn rolled off of her and wrapped her up in her limbs and pressed her face into Rachel's neck. Rachel breathed deeply. Cornelius crawled up to lie at her side next to Jelly and Barnaby stretched out over Quinn's legs.

"Goodnight, little bear." Quinn murmured sleepily. "Love you."

And Rachel responded in kind, and they were finally home.


	16. Chapter 16

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 16: Pretty the World**

Quinn curled her toes and tensed her muscles periodically to refrain from fidgeting in her seat. She gripped the armrests of her comfortable chair and pictured macaroni penguins and their novel yellow crests and wondered if she'd be able to convince Rachel to visit South America with her to see them in the wild.

Or Australia. Or the Antarctic. Quinn had an endless list.

The chief veterinarian of the Central Park Zoo sat on the other side of the desk, and Quinn smiled at him calmly. He had an intriguing, lofty hairstyle, so picturing him as a macaroni penguin wasn't a huge leap. Quinn had no problem maintaining eye contact.

"You've probably figured out that this whole meeting is just a formality, right Quinn?" Doctor Williams checked, brown eyes sparkling, leaning back in his rolling chair until it squeaked.

"I…didn't want to assume, sir." Quinn replied, smiling hesitantly. Her voice had been steady and her words had been in line for the whole interview.

She was a pro.

Doctor Williams nodded. "I have colleagues at Davis CVM." He informed, eyeing Quinn for her reaction.

Quinn's lips twitched. She liked this man. He was jovial and thoughtful and he didn't waste time on inane conversation. And he had a large picture of himself hugging an anesthetized lion on his wall, so Quinn figured she should look up to him.

"Top two percentile is very impressive." Doctor Williams continued. Quinn flushed and dropped her eyes to his collar. "And you worked here for two years before that picking up elephant poop, Quinn. Our staff knows you; the animals are…distantly familiar with you. So I've consulted with the director and she's given me authority to offer you the position of associate veterinarian."

Quinn dropped her chin to her chest and scrunched up her face and tried _so hard_ to suppress her smile. Some kind of noise made it out of her mouth, so she shook her head around and squeezed the armrests because she felt like she was about to fly away.

Her legs bounced and she was tearing up and, _God_, she loved this macaroni penguin.

Doctor Williams chuckled heartily. "You can celebrate, you know. Scream, dance, do a backflip. I have surgery in forty minutes so we've got time."

Quinn coughed because her vocal cords seemed non-functional at the moment. She raised her excited, watery hazel eyes to meet Doctor Williams' and rocked sideways in her chair because there was no hope of sitting still now.

The chief just grinned, pleased to have elicited such a reaction.

"I-I'll-I-I-" Quinn coughed again and pressed her hands to her temples, taking a settling breath. "I'll-I'll celebrate properly at home." She managed to get out. "With my wife."

And then her smile overtook her face again because she could just imagine Rachel's reaction. Quinn would buy her jelly beans on the way home. And a strawberry smoothie and flowers bright like the sun.

Doctor Williams nodded easily. He sat forward in his seat again and waited patiently for Quinn to quell her excitement. Quinn was able to sit still again after a minute. She focused on macaroni penguins and listened intently to whatever the chief had to say, hands clasped politely in her lap.

"You're quite the ambitious one, Quinn." He remarked, leaning forward conspiratorially.

Quinn bit her lip. "I have a few aspirations." She conceded humbly. "And…the very best reason to follow through with all of them."

Doctor Williams tilted his head. "So what is this idea I've heard so much about the past few days? A…children's educational program?"

Quinn took a breath and sat forward and held her knees down to keep them from bouncing. "Sort of. It's-it would be an animal education program for people with autism, children and adults." She explained, running her hands over the soft fabric of her skirt. "We could offer guided tours and camps and hands-on interactions with the animals, which I think would be the most important part."

Doctor Williams raised an interested eyebrow.

"Not, you know, the _bears_." Quinn rushed out, smiling. "All of your mammals are large carnivores and we don't want anybody being eaten."

Quinn scrunched up her face and shook her head as soon as it came out of her mouth.

Doctor Williams laughed loudly. "No, no we don't." He agreed. "That would not be good."

"I thought we could start with penguins." Quinn continued, tugging on the rubber band around her wrist. Her eyes dropped to the chief's desk while she focused on what she was trying to say. "Your Gentoo Penguins." She specified. "People could feed them, pet them, really interact with them. I think it helps when you have-when you can touch something. I would've loved to-to play with penguins as a kid."

And then Quinn could see her backyard at home filled with macaroni penguins, and Rachel milling about with them, and she was so delighted and amused for a second that she missed Doctor Williams' nod.

"And you'd run this program?" he asked, amused.

Quinn stared for a second. "I-yeah, of course." She enthused. "I'd love to. I-I want to create…sort of a network among zoos. It would tie in with this little organization I have called A Bear, A Star, and I'd just…I'd love the opportunity."

Doctor Williams watched her carefully. "Our zoo is pretty small. Your idea is actually plausible."

Quinn found herself stuck on penguins. She wondered if there were any genetically rogue penguins out there as big as Rachel. And where she'd have to go to see them. And if Rachel would like to come with her.

"I think we can look into it." Doctor Williams finished, glancing up at the clock on his office wall.

Quinn nodded absently. And then her eyes drifted back to the chief and she realized they were finished and stood up immediately. She cleared her throat and brushed her skirt down and held out her hand.

"Thank you for your time, Doctor." She said with a quiet smile, a little flushed because she'd pictured this man as a macaroni penguin for almost two hours. "I'm sure it'll be a pleasure working with you soon."

Doctor Williams smiled warmly at her. "I'm glad we'll have somebody like you on our team, Quinn."

And Quinn strode out of the office and out of the veterinary field house and then all the way out of the zoo with her head held high and a wide smile on her face that she was just unable to suppress. She stopped to get jelly beans and flowers and a smoothie for Rachel, but she spilled the smoothie all over her blouse because she was vibrating with excitement.

Like Eeyore, Quinn had never been so glad that she'd left her little corner of the forest.

~ooooooooooo~

Quinn found Rachel in the shower when she got home. She stood in the bathroom doorway petting Barnaby with one hand and watching her wife's silhouette dance to the music coming out of her phone. It was Michael Jackson, and Quinn laughed quietly to herself because it was obvious Rachel was using the shampoo bottle as a microphone.

Barnaby made a sudden lunge forward like he wanted to leap into the tub so Quinn caught his collar and shut the bathroom door in his face.

Time to stop her stalking.

"Hey, little bear." She called out softly, knowing that Rachel startled as easily as a baby bird. Quinn liked to scare her, just a little bit, but then Rachel would spend the rest of the day ruffling Quinn's hair and denying her kisses and that just wasn't worth it.

This time, Rachel just kept dancing with her shampoo bottle. "Hey, baby!" She greeted brightly over the sound of the water and the music.

Quinn smiled. "Raaaachel," she sang, stepping forward and opening the shower curtain just enough for her face to peek through. Her gaze dropped immediately to run over Rachel's soft, smooth, dripping body, but it didn't linger because she was vibrating with so much excitement and she needed to get her news out soon.

Rachel kept dancing, eyebrows raised curiously, smile playing on her lips. "Did your interview go well?" She squeezed out her wet hair and sashayed around to face Quinn.

"You're going to fall on your pretty little butt, baby." Quinn remarked instead of answering. She impulsively pulled open the curtain completely and stepped inside to the dry part of the shower, gripping Rachel's hips. "Let me help you with that."

Rachel laughed loudly. "Why are you covered in ice cream?" she ran her finger along the pink splotch on Quinn's blouse and met her wife's sparkling eyes.

Quinn _wished_ she was covered in ice cream. Showering in ice cream, taking a bath in ice cream. Mint chocolate chip ice cream. She should've gotten ice cream on the way home.

Quinn sighed heavily at that and Rachel splashed water in her face, chuckling when Quinn shook her head around in surprise. "Baby, why are you covered in ice cream?" Rachel repeated, smiling knowingly.

Quinn poked Rachel's belly button. "Can you not differentiate between a smoothie and ice cream?" she shook her head, feigning disappointment. "I thought you were better than that."

"I'm not the one who dumped it down myself like a toddler." Rachel countered easily.

Quinn smiled. "I was excited."

Rachel couldn't seem to stop smiling either, like she knew what was coming. "Why are you excited, bear?"

Quinn rocked back on her heels, trying to find the right words.

"Hold on." Rachel interrupted before Quinn could say anything. She reached out of the shower and dried a hand on her towel before turning off the music on her phone. "Okay, I'm ready."

Quinn swayed back and forth on her toes, aware that her tights were getting soaked and not really sure why she'd stepped _into_ the shower in the first place. She couldn't stop thinking of penguins and ice cream.

"Did-did you know Gentoos are the fastest swimming penguins?" Quinn asked, now completely unable to hold still. Rachel just held Quinn's forearms and watched her with a smile. "And…snow leopards can-they can leap fifty feet when they're chasing prey."

Rachel narrowed her eyes, confusion becoming apparent.

Quinn knew where she was going, and she would get there eventually. "There-there are twelve rings on a red panda's tail and sea lions blow bubbles out-out of their nose to help them hold their breath under water."

Rachel scrunched up her face. "Bear, what are you-"

"Those-those-those are the animals I'll be working with." Quinn stuttered out, tapping her fingers against Rachel's hips. "Doctor Williams said-they-they offered-"

Rachel reached up and tapped her own lips, keeping eye contact with Quinn.

Quinn coughed and laughed and made some kind of noise that she couldn't control. She wondered why in the world she was doing this in the shower, but Rachel was smiling so fondly that Quinn had to pull her into a hug, ignoring the water soaking through her clothes.

"They hired me." Quinn managed to murmur, finding it so much easier to not roll over her words when her face was pressed into Rachel's neck. "As associate veterinarian, they hired me."

Rachel's shriek was louder than ever, but wholly expected, so Quinn wasn't _completely_ deafened.

"_Quinn_!" Rachel cried, trying to pull backwards but unable to extricate herself from her wife's arms. "_Baby_!" she screamed again and moved forwards instead, knocking Quinn sideways into the wall and sliding them both down into the tub.

Quinn couldn't stop laughing. Rachel flailed around for a second to shut off the water, and then pounced on Quinn, dripping and grinning and letting out small noises of excitement. She kissed Quinn's cheeks and lips and her hair went in Quinn's mouth, and Quinn just really loved rolling around in soaking wet clothes in a bath tub with her naked wife.

"I knew you would!" Rachel cried. "I'm so proud of you! I have news too!" she ran her hands repeatedly through Quinn's hair, smile splitting her face.

Quinn nodded up at her eagerly. "What is it?" she asked through her laughter, brushing Rachel's hair back and trying to form it into spikes..

Rachel rested her hands on Quinn's shoulders and sat still for a moment. "Tina called." She said with a more subdued, mischievous smile. Quinn's eyes were wide and focused. "They want me for the _Hello, Dolly!_ revival in the fall!"

Now Quinn shrieked. Her voice broke and squeaked halfway through and she sat up and pulled Rachel into her arms and kissed all over her face. Rachel clung to her like a koala, laughing madly when Quinn blew a raspberry on her neck.

Quinn was glad she'd found somebody she could roll around in the bathtub with. Somebody who used shampoo bottles as microphones and laughed and smiled as big as the world.

"I love us." Rachel murmured after a few minutes, halfway in Quinn's lap and clutching at Quinn's neck.

Quinn hummed agreeably. "We're going places."

"Like out of the shower." Rachel said with a smile. She moved to stand up, but Quinn wouldn't release her.

"Not yet." Quinn protested, squeezing tighter around Rachel's waist.

Getting out of the shower would require Rachel to put on some clothes, and Quinn just wasn't ready for that to happen yet.

"We can move to the bed." Rachel suggested with a smirk, cheeks flushed from the warm water and celebration.

Quinn faltered.

"I know you want to, bear." Rachel continued, still pulling on Quinn's arms. "I can see your nostrils flaring."

Quinn puffed out her cheeks. "I'm just having respiratory problems."

Rachel snorted and shook her head. "We'll catch pneumonia if we stay here like this."

Quinn groaned exaggeratedly. She doubted anybody could catch pneumonia in a bathtub, but she slowly moved to stand up because she didn't want Rachel to get cold.

Rachel smiled when Quinn _accidentally_ palmed her butt helping her out of the shower. "I think we need to get some mint chocolate chip ice cream, right?" Rachel suggested knowingly, ruffling a towel over Quinn's head and sending her blonde hair in all directions.

Quinn ducked away and shook her hair out and nodded eagerly. And then she pushed Rachel backwards until they hit the bed because she had something else in mind to have before ice cream.

~oooooooooo~

Quinn was lying on the couch the next evening, running her fingers through George's thick, smoky fur and looking for abnormal growths on his chubby body, when she heard a loud rapping on the door. She didn't even flinch when Santana, Brittany, and Puck sauntered into the living room and dropped down onto various pieces of furniture, but then Rachel came in, followed closely by Lisa, and Quinn shot up in her seat.

George went rocketing off towards the bedroom and Quinn wished she'd held him tighter so she'd have something to do with her hands at the moment.

She hadn't seen Lisa since the wedding. It was like walking on a ledge with her.

"We wanted to come by and celebrate with you guys!" Brittany proclaimed. "You both got jobs and Flappy stopped peeing all over the floor at home, so it's a really good day for us!"

Santana nodded sagely and held up a canvas bag. "We brought booze."

Brittany held up another bag, slightly larger and with an open top. "And Flappy."

Quinn still hadn't greeted her aunt, but this distracted her. Another animal in her apartment. It was delightful.

"Brittany!" Rachel interjected, still standing slightly awkwardly next to Lisa. "We have four dogs and three cats who'd love to terrorize him! You can't bring him here!"

Quinn held up her hand to her wife. "Only three dogs, baby." She corrected quietly. "I don't think Charizard would terrorize him."

Rachel stared at her. Brittany nodded wisely.

"Hello, Quinn." Lisa greeted nicely, hands clasped in front of her.

She looked far more relaxed than she had six years ago. Her blonde hair was looser and graying a little bit, and her face wasn't so strained, like elastic stretched further than it could go. It looked softer, and Quinn smiled when she remembered that Rachel had said Lisa had a voice like a blender.

Her voice was quiet now. Low, but not rumbly and threatening.

Quinn stood up and moved forward to give her a light hug. "Hi, Aunt Lisa." She murmured, catching Rachel's eye over her aunt's shoulder.

Rachel smiled at her and then disappeared into the kitchen for glasses.

"I drove up to congratulate you in person and ran into these guys in the street." Lisa explained, pulling back from Quinn and gesturing to the other people in the living room.

"Just enough people for a party!" Puck proclaimed, winking at Rachel when she returned with glasses.

Cornelius came trotting out of the bedroom, tail wagging, took one look at Flappy and took off like a rocket in his direction. Rachel rolled her eyes as they vanished into the hallway, a squawking, barking mess.

Quinn sat back on the couch and gestured for Rachel to sit next to her, and Lisa settled into a free armchair, looking only mildly uncomfortable when Butter jumped into her lap. Puck stretched out on the floor with a rope toy and Cloud bounced over to play tug o' war.

Rachel nudged Quinn's knee. "Wine, bear?" she asked, holding up the bottle and an empty glass.

Quinn faltered. She was always overthinking things around her aunt. Was she speaking loud enough? Clear enough? Making enough eye contact? She scrunched up her nose.

"This is a _celebration_, Sunny Delight." Santana enthused, catching Quinn's eye. "You have to drink something stronger than chocolate milk. It's required."

Quinn nodded and thought of macaroni penguins when Rachel handed her the glass of strawberry wine.

"Quinn, can I-can I just say something really quickly?" Lisa asked loudly, staring straight at her niece. "Before we all…relax, and- I don't know- your friend Brittany mentioned games."

Quinn's gaze went straight to Brittany, who was leaning out of the loveseat and peering towards the bedrooms, probably to see if her duck was still alive. Quinn knew Cornelius wouldn't hurt it. He'd just trap it and taunt it until it played with him.

Like Quinn did with Rachel.

She wondered what games Brittany was talking about, and then Rachel knocked sideways into her shoulder and she focused again.

"Of course." Quinn said to her aunt, nodding agreeably.

Rachel slipped a hand behind Quinn's back and rubbed discreetly.

"When I adopted you, you were only eleven, and you hadn't eaten in three days because you'd run away to Coney Island." Lisa said slowly, eyes on Butter's face. Quinn could see the surprise in her friends' eyes. "And then you wouldn't say anything at all to me for at least two weeks. You stayed in your room and read your books and the only sound that came out of your mouth was when you talked to Apple next door."

Quinn's lips twitched at the mention of Apple. Rachel smiled.

"You would talk to that scruffy little terrier instead of _people_." Lisa continued, meeting Quinn's gaze. "Instead of therapists and instead of me and other children. And I didn't understand why, and I went about everything in the worst way possible, and I'm sorry for that."

Quinn swallowed. She remembered Apple's warm brown eyes had been easier to talk to than any of the people she'd known at the time. Rachel squeezed her thigh.

Puck playfully draped a blanket over Charizard's face to muffle his loud breathing.

"And then I met Rachel," Lisa gestured at Rachel and Quinn tipped sideways to kiss her wife's cheek. "and I still wasn't understanding what you were doing or why you were doing it, but then you talked to me about paying for school, and I'm truly sorry that I said I wouldn't pay if you didn't major in pre-vet."

Santana laughed from the loveseat. "Looks like it worked out though, huh." Brittany elbowed her in the ribs and Santana huffed and went quiet again.

Lisa smiled. "And now that you've graduated, and you're a vet, I don't know how I didn't see that that's where you were headed all along. You know where you're going and exactly what you're doing, and you just get there in a different way than most people."

Quinn's mind went straight to Benjamin Bunny. She didn't know _why_, but that's where she found herself, and she shifted in her seat while Rachel rubbed her back and sipped her wine.

"You know…Beatrix Potter was rejected so many times that she had to self-publish _Peter Rabbit_." Quinn stated, to nobody in particular. She let Rachel start playing with her fingers. "But I'm glad she did, even if nobody-nobody supported her at the time. If she'd given up, we wouldn't have known Peter Rabbit and that would've been awful."

The room was silent. Quinn shook her head around because _what in the world was she talking about_?

And then Puck spoke. "Sometimes you have to do it yourself until everybody around you sees that you were right all along." He played with Char's front legs, sticking them in the air like the dog was dancing.

Santana stared into her wine glass and then looked at Brittany in confusion. "Am I drunk already? What's going on here?"

Brittany patted her thigh. "They're talking about bunnies, hon."

Quinn nodded. "Rachel's my Peter Rabbit."

Quinn faltered at the confusion on everybody's faces. Santana looked like she suspected she'd been poisoned. Drugged by the wine. Rachel was the only one who didn't look puzzled. She rested her head on Quinn's shoulder and played with Quinn's fingers while she waited for her wife to explain.

"Beatrix Potter kept doing what she was doing, not giving up, because of Peter Rabbit. She-she knew she had something good, so she wouldn't rest until the rest of the world could see it." Quinn explained. She kissed Rachel's head and flushed, blonde hair dropping into her eyes. "Rachel's my…Peter Rabbit."

Rachel awwed and smiled up at Quinn.

Quinn grinned at her. "And my little bear."

"Did you put something in my drink?" Santana asked loudly, drawing everybody's attention. "Because I'm lost and this is sickening."

"Thank you." Quinn said abruptly, looking at Lisa again. "I-I accept your apologies."

Lisa clasped her hands together and smiled softly. "I also wanted to tell you that the Children's Home is closing in three weeks. They ran out of funding and they're moving the kids out soon."

Cornelius came trotting out of the bedroom with a white feather on his face and Brittany shot up out of her seat to make sure her duck hadn't been killed.

Quinn wasn't _fond_ of where she'd grown up, but it had been food and shelter for a girl who'd lost her parents, so she was thankful at least. She frowned at the news and pictured the large blue bunk bed room where she'd lived for seven years.

She remembered drawing pictures in crayon on the walls because paper was in short supply. There was always a giraffe watching her sleep.

"Do…do you think I'd be allowed to visit?" Quinn asked Lisa quietly. "Before they shut it down, I mean. Could Rachel and I go visit?"

Rachel looked pleasantly surprised at the suggestion. Quinn squeezed her hand.

"I'm sure you could." Lisa replied. "They probably remember you."

Santana raised her glass. "Sunny's a hard one to forget." She proclaimed.

Quinn wondered if she was drunk already. She knew Rachel was feeling the effects of the wine a little bit because she chuckled every time she tried to bend Quinn's fingers the wrong way.

"It would be nice to…say goodbye." Quinn mused softly.

Brittany came skipping back into the room with an intact Flappy in her arms, and she flicked on the iPod dock while she passed it. She pulled Santana up to dance with her while Puck made a toast to himself, and then to Charizard, and then to Quinn and Rachel.

Quinn slumped down in the couch and pulled Rachel closer and watched Lisa as she got to know Cloud. Cloud threw the upper half of his body over her and Quinn laughed.

"When do you want to visit that place?" Rachel murmured, chuckling when she bent one of Quinn's fingers until it cracked. Quinn gave Rachel a pillow to hold onto instead and shrugged.

"Before we get super busy, I guess." She stated, and then chuckled at her friends' dancing. "I think San's going to put a hole in our wall."

"I'd like to see where you grew up." Rachel remarked. "And I want more baby pictures of you and some of your parents. We can put them all over the house."

Quinn hummed vaguely. She remembered having to convince Rachel to not put a poster-size picture of her toddler face in the entryway. This would probably be a repeat of that.

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Rachel pressed, pushing her face into Quinn's shoulder. Quinn caught Lisa's eye and smiled at her wife's antics. "We have loads of me, but we need more of you."

Quinn hummed again, eyes sparkling. She did not want to commit to this right now.

"I think George and Barnaby are arthritic." She said instead, tilting her head so it rested on Rachel's and eyeing the big, smoky cat.

Rachel sighed like she'd been expecting that. "Me too." She agreed sagely.

Quinn chuckled.

"I have arthritis too." Rachel clarified. "I'm pretty sure. All my bones pop when I move."

Quinn kicked out a leg in an attempt to trip Puck as he tried to dance by the coffee table. "Your little body is just naturally loud, baby." She assured Rachel.

Rachel scrunched up her face. "What can you do for Barnaby and George? Get them hip replacements?"

Quinn laughed loudly and wrapped both arms around Rachel and squeezed her tight because this person was just perfect for her.

"I can give them vitamins…non-steroidal, anti-inflammatory drugs, joint fluid modifiers…" Quinn listed, pondering which one to start with, amused at Rachel's expression.

Rachel nodded. "I agree. You should give them those. Those sound like good things."

Santana danced her way over to the couch with Brittany on her arm and kneeled down in front of Rachel, looking up at her seriously. She planted both hands on Rachel's knees and squeezed.

"Congratulations, Dolly." she drawled, and then climbed up Brittany's side to stand again. "New York has missed you."

Rachel laughed as Santana retreated. "I think she's a little drunk." she whispered to Quinn.

Quinn tapped Rachel's cheek because Rachel's head had drooped and it looked like she was whispering to Quinn's boobs.

"Rachel," Lisa called out from her chair, forced to remain seated because of Cloud. "I just want to say I'd love to come to your show when it opens and I'm proud of you as well."

Rachel smiled at her, because Rachel smiled at everybody and handed out endless second chances. "We'd love to have you, Lisa." She assured genuinely.

And then Quinn determined that it was time to dance, so she unwrapped Rachel from her bear hug and took her hand instead.

"Dance with me, little bear?" she asked, standing up gracefully and raising an eyebrow at her wife.

Rachel took her hand and allowed Quinn to pull her to her feet, giving Quinn an "I told you so" look when her joints popped loudly. Quinn grimaced exaggeratedly and Rachel laughed, and then Rachel ruffled Quinn's hair, and Quinn saw macaroni penguins again.

And mint chocolate chip ice cream, and her arthritic animals, and the people she loved dancing around her living room.


	17. Chapter 17

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 17: Crayons on Walls, I'll Color on them All**

The Gerrard Home for Children was a small, red brick, corner building with a stout green hedge running along one wall and a short, black, wrought iron gate right off the sidewalk. Everything was compressed. Too small for the city, like Stuart Little's brownstone between two skyscrapers. The weeds and flowers and grass stood out against the gray of the other buildings.

Rachel's gaze swept over the smooth, worn stone steps and the faded blue sign. It read "errard" now. The "G" had vanished somewhere in years of disrepair.

"I never knew who Gerrard was." Quinn remarked, pulling Rachel's attention back to her. It was a hot, late August day and they were both sweating lightly. Blonde hair clung to Quinn's forehead and she stood on the steps and smiled at Rachel, hands in her skirt pockets.

"I didn't even know he was a real person." Quinn continued, letting Rachel extract one of her hands to hold. "I named an imaginary friend Gerrard, and we pretended that this was his house. Gerrard and Pooh Bear and I."

Rachel smiled, but didn't laugh. And then she pictured little Quinn running around with a stuffed animal and an imaginary friend, and chuckled into her wife's shoulder.

"What kinds of things did you do with Gerrard?" she questioned, tugging on Quinn's arm.

Quinn narrowed her eyes like she wasn't sure if she was being made fun of. She watched a squirrel run along the fence. "I'd…We'd climb the tree in the backyard. And I'd read to him."

Rachel nodded, smiling fondly.

She could feel the sweat in the crook of Quinn's elbow so she shuffled them towards the front door and out of the baking city heat.

"He was a koala." Quinn added, moving where Rachel directed her.

Rachel laughed. "Gerrard was a koala? Your imaginary friend was a koala?"

"When they leave their mothers' pouches, they eat gum leaves, which are toxic for most mammals." Quinn explained, slowly pushing open the large door and looking around.

Rachel wasn't sure what that had to do with anything.

Quinn lowered her voice. "They're only pregnant for thirty-five days, and then the joeys live in the pouch for seven months."

It was like she was conveying a secret. Rachel listened intently, amused, and reached up and tugged Quinn's ear before she could continue.

"Where do we go, babe?" she asked, gesturing around the large, empty foyer.

The floors were dark wood and worn away in places, and the walls were off-white, nicked around the doorframes and running board, but filled with pictures and art projects and certificates. Quinn bit her lip and dragged her gaze away from a large crayon drawing of a rainbow.

"Hello?" Rachel called loudly because Quinn didn't seem to be taking any action.

Rachel could hear music coming from down the hall to the right and raised voices from straight ahead, in what looked like it could be the kitchen. Naturally, Quinn squeezed her hand and pulled her to the left, away from all the noise.

They walked down a hallway, passing two closed doors and a bathroom before Quinn stopped. She stood outside a wooden door that looked exactly like all of the others, and Rachel stared up at her expectantly.

"Are we going in?" Rachel asked, raising an eyebrow.

Quinn swallowed and fidgeted her fingers inside her pockets. "This-this was one of the girls' rooms. Where I lived for six years."

Rachel leaned into her wife's side, thankful for the building's air conditioning. "Let's go inside." She whispered against Quinn's arm.

She didn't want to come off as creepy- slinking into children's bedrooms as a twenty-eight year old woman- but nobody was around. It was a public institution; some sort of receptionist should be kept on hand at all times.

Rachel could hardly be blamed for getting lost as soon as she entered the building. She was simply trying to find her way.

She reached for the door handle. Quinn made no move to stop her.

"Hello?" Rachel called again when the door was open a crack. She pushed it further so that she could stick her head through and Quinn did the same, chin resting on Rachel's dark hair.

"You smell like strawberries, baby." Quinn whispered appreciatively.

Rachel laughed and strode inside the room once she saw that it was empty.

It was large, with two fraying purple carpets on the floor and four sets of bunk beds along the walls. There were no windows, but the overhead lights were soft, and the floor was cluttered with clothes and toys and about a million Legos.

Rachel wondered where all the children were. It could be the start of a horror movie. She spied a Barbie who'd had all of its hair chopped off, or _styled_, with its feet glued to a Tech Deck skateboard.

Quinn bent over and picked up an Easy Bake Oven spatula and Rachel smiled. She knew Quinn probably would've _loved_ to make herself cookies as a child.

"It's not as…oppressive." Quinn mused quietly, moving towards the closet to their right. "It's lighter."

Rachel hummed vaguely. She wondered if she'd ever have a need for _Supernanny_ or _Nanny 911_ with her own kids. Hopefully she and Quinn would be able to keep them in line. A flock of talented, neat, fluffy-blonde-haired, big-brown-eyed Berry-Fabrays.

Unfortunately, Rachel could easily picture herself on TV five years down the line, holding a screaming toddler in her arms in the middle of the night and arguing with a four-year-old about the benefits of staying in the corner for time-out and obeying the chore chart.

Unheeded rules and warnings, screeching, crying, slapping.

The woman who lost control of her kids.

"Rachel." Quinn interrupted her thoughts, smiling knowingly at Rachel from the closet.

Rachel shook her head and smiled back because she had Quinn, and Quinn could only raise wonderful babies.

"I used to sit in the closet when the other kids weren't being very nice." Quinn explained, circling an arm around Rachel's waist and pointing at the back of the wardrobe, behind the clothes. Rachel half-expected a door to appear, to Wonderland or Narnia.

"I'd-I'd color on the walls." Quinn continued, eyes sparkling. "You can see there's a little house. And Gerrard and Pooh Bear."

Rachel squinted. She could make out a yellow square, and then a yellow blob next to it with a red splotch, and a gray blob above all of that.

She grinned. Four-year-old Quinn had been talented.

"Is that you?" Rachel questioned, pointing at a few stick figures next to the gray blob. Two of them were inordinately tall. Rachel tilted her head. "And your parents?"

Quinn nodded softly, lips quirked up. Rachel straightened up and kissed the side of her head. She wondered why the drawings hadn't been painted over. And why Quinn had drawings on the wall of every place she'd ever lived. It made Rachel laugh.

"Hello, Quinn."

Rachel jumped at the rumbly voice, whirling around and clutching Quinn's waist to keep her balance. Quinn spun as well, careful to avoid the Lego buildings on the floor.

"I knew we'd see you again before we closed." The voice belonged to a stocky older woman with white hair and a dated floral dress. She was smiling, maybe patronizingly, but her blue eyes were kind enough.

Quinn blinked exaggeratedly. "Hi, Mrs. Nelson." She greeted, gaze on the woman's collar.

Rachel's first instinct was to say something to fill the ensuing silence. She could rarely stop herself.

"Hello! I'm Rachel, Quinn's wife." She said brightly, stepping forward with an outstretched hand, screaming internally when her flip-flop slipped and she stepped on a Lego.

Mrs. Nelson's handshake was solid and warm, and she took a good minute to exchange pleasantries with Rachel.

"How are you, Quinn?" she asked when Rachel stepped back.

Rachel turned around, suddenly aware that her wife hadn't said anything. Quinn's fingers were dancing in her pockets and her hair had flopped over her eyes. Rachel held a hand out and brushed the blonde hair back when Quinn was next to her.

"Very well, thank you. How are you?" Quinn replied softly.

Mrs. Nelson smiled, sticking her hands on her very prominent hips. "I see nothing's changed at all." She remarked, eyeing Quinn.

Rachel frowned. She wondered if the Lego was now embedded in the flesh of her heel.

"I never saw much of her eyes when she lived here." Mrs. Nelson addressed Rachel now, waving a hand in Quinn's direction. "I still remember when she was four and my Roger was still with us, and she came to us after losing her parents, God rest their souls, and she sat in that closet for two weeks straight."

Rachel squeezed Quinn's forearm, not really liking how this woman was speaking like Quinn wasn't present.

"We brought her food, but she wouldn't touch any of it." Mrs. Nelson remembered, eyes drifting upwards like she was picturing it in her head. "Always complaining, you were, Quinn. Silent and stubborn." She shook her head like they were fond memories.

"Well…Quinn's changed a lot." Rachel offered, contemplating the cost of surgical extraction of a Lego from her foot. She didn't really know what else to say.

Mrs. Nelson kept her eyes on Quinn. Rachel could feel her wife squirming under the gaze.

"It's been twenty years." Quinn stated defiantly, finally dragging her eyes up to meet the lofty blue ones fixed on her. Her voice was soft but steady. "And…I wasn't always complaining, Mrs. Nelson."

Mrs. Nelson hummed, amused. "Well, if you want-"

"You know she's an associate veterinarian at the Bronx Zoo now?" Rachel interjected, feeling the need to brag for her humble, sweetheart wife. "She rescues animals. She _makes_ me rescue animals because she is determined and kind and loving. And you're right, very stubborn."

Quinn laughed shortly and Rachel squeezed her arm.

"I've never heard her complain. She's quiet, but she started her own organization for autism awareness and has recklessly entered us in various 5K runs." Rachel continued, smiling genuinely and glad that Mrs. Nelson looked interested. "She likes Sunny Delight, but not orange juice, and she won't eat anything that's come within five feet of onions."

Mrs. Nelson tilted her head and watched Quinn curiously. Rachel kept up her rambling and Quinn pressed her lips together to suppress her smile.

"I don't know if you ever got to know her, but she hates apple juice as well." Rachel remarked, on some kind of unstoppable roll now. "She likes wearing fleece pajamas to bed, even in the middle of the summer, and she doesn't pay attention to the plots in movies. She just likes peoples' facial expressions and the setting, but she'll sing along to every musical we own."

Rachel didn't really know where she was going with this. Her audience was listening, so she plowed on.

"And she tries not to smile too much because she thinks her smile is too big, but really it's the most gorgeous, contagious smile I've ever seen." Rachel grinned just thinking about it. Quinn was pulling it now. "She loves dresses and sweatpants, but only if they're long enough, and she makes ice cubes using the tray instead of the automatic ice maker because she says it gives them more character. When we do laundry, she uses three times the amount of necessary detergent, just for the smell, and she wears turkey sweaters at Thanksgiving and snowman socks in July, and she's-she's just…"

Rachel sighed and laughed at herself because she didn't know what in the world she was talking about. Or where she was or how she'd gotten started.

"That's who she is." Rachel said, staring easily at Mrs. Nelson. "She's changed, but she's Quinn. And Quinn likes bears."

Quinn laughed into the silent room, giving Rachel a look that clearly said "you are a ridiculous person."

Rachel shrugged. She was aware of that fact.

Mrs. Nelson smiled. "No apple juice, huh?" she asked, watching Quinn. "That would explain a lot."

Quinn shrugged, flushing and burying her hands further in her skirt pockets.

"I like this one." Mrs. Nelson continued, nodding her head at Rachel, who was bent over and fumbling around with her flip flop and her foot to see if the Lego had created a need for medical attention.

Quinn smiled and rocked on her heels. "I like her too." She murmured.

"I'll let you two wander freely." Mrs. Nelson offered with a warmer smile. "You were a good heart in a group of not-so-good hearts, Quinn. Make sure you say goodbye before you leave."

Quinn nodded. She seemed pleased and her eyes sparkled as she held Rachel up.

"Is your foot alright, baby?" she questioned when Mrs. Nelson left and Rachel straightened again, bones popping, Lego in hand.

Rachel now had a permanent Lego imprint on her heel, but her foot was fine.

She took Quinn's hand and allowed her wife to lead her out of the bedroom and through all of the nooks and crannies of her childhood. Quinn pointed out the old bookcases by the big window where she'd read about Clifford the Big Red Dog, and a small table where a boy had knocked over a lamp and blamed it on Quinn. She showed Rachel the linen closet, which she used to pretend was a fort, and the fireplace where she was allowed to roast marshmallows one Christmas.

"I got them everywhere and we had to cut my hair, but it was funny." Quinn explained with a smile. She gestured to the doorway between the large living room and the dining area. "And that's where I threw it all up."

Rachel committed everything to memory. She listened carefully and laughed when Quinn laughed and squeezed Quinn's hand when her wife got quiet.

It was a quiet childhood. Bumpy, but positive, and the memories made Quinn's eyes bright.

Quinn pointed to a water faucet when they were standing in the spacious backyard, bare except for a metal swing set and an empty plastic sandbox.

"We were playing with water balloons once." Quinn started, half-smiling and making sure Rachel was listening. "And I was running because some boys were throwing them at me, and I tripped on the step and hit my chin on the faucet, and that's where I got-"

"The scar on your jaw!" Rachel finished loudly, realization dawning. She reached for Quinn's jaw and held it softly to examine the scar, ignoring the amusement in her wife's eyes.

It was small and pale, and only noticeable to Rachel because she'd discovered it herself six years ago.

Quinn puffed out her cheeks to get Rachel to let go of her face. Rachel just leaned up and kissed Quinn's lips, laughing at all the air that was expelled.

"Rachel." Quinn said a moment later, flushed from the heat and gripping Rachel's hands.

Rachel raised her eyebrows.

"I think there's a child following us." Quinn whispered, trying to gesture with her eyes.

Rachel followed her gaze to the side of the building. There was a gap between the red brick and the hedge, and a small, dark head was peering around the corner. Rachel was surprised. All the children seemed to be keeping to themselves, so she tried not to make any sudden movements which would scare this one away.

"How long as he been there?" She asked softly, watching a nervous smile play on Quinn's lips.

Quinn shrugged. "He's been following us since we left the bedroom."

Rachel's jaw dropped. "You should go talk to him!" she whispered loudly.

Quinn faltered. "I-no-I don't…he's a child-I can't-children-they're unnerving."

"Everyone's unnerving to you." Rachel said reasonably.

Quinn flicked Rachel's cheek.

"Maybe he wants to play, bear." Rachel insisted, amused with Quinn's reaction.

"Why don't _you _talk to him?"

Rachel scoffed. She didn't actually have a reason other than "little kids have sticky hands" and "he's the first child we've seen today, which screams horror movie." But that was insensitive and mean. This was where Quinn grew up.

The boy moved away from the hedge and approached Rachel and Quinn, bounding forward on his hands and feet like a dog. He settled a few feet away, and it was _extremely_ unnerving. This was exactly how demon possession stories started.

Rachel didn't know any exorcists.

"Hello there!" Rachel greeted, waving brightly because Quinn seemed to have frozen and the boy was just staring.

He scooted forward about a foot.

"Are you a dog, honey?" Rachel asked sweetly, wondering if a seven-year-old would take that as an insult.

Quinn snorted a laugh and then covered her nose.

"I'm Simba." The boy stated clearly, holding his chin up high.

Quinn's expression turned completely serious. Her eyes lit up and she fixed her gaze on the boy, awed. Now Rachel had to laugh.

"The lion?" Quinn questioned, crouching down so she was on his level. She tipped sideways and gripped Rachel's calves for balance.

The boy nodded.

"So you were following us like a lion." Quinn clarified with a wide smile.

He nodded again. "You be the zebras and I'm the lion."

Quinn looked absolutely delighted. She didn't even bother telling the boy that male lions aren't the hunters. Instead, she tipped forward onto her hands and knees and shuffled a few feet away into the grass, careful that her skirt was long enough to keep her covered.

The boy looked surprised that he'd actually gotten somebody to play with him.

Rachel was not surprised.

She rolled her eyes and dropped into the grass as well, not wanting to be the only sane person in the backyard. She'd rather be a zebra, so she neighed like a horse because she had no idea what kind of noises zebras made, and took off after her wife.

The grass was wet on her knees, but she tilted forward so that her head was low to the ground like a grazing zebra.

And when the boy rushed Quinn, like a lion pouncing on its prey, and Quinn ran through the grass on her hands and knees, laughing and yelling at the boy to "_Go after the other zebra_," Rachel knew that she was ready for this in her own life.

She watched Quinn neigh and paw at the air as the boy climbed on her back.

She was ready for a baby.

~oooooooooooooooo~

Rachel stood in the kitchen dumping chocolate chips into a bowl of cookie dough and contemplating how best to approach the "baby" subject with her wife. Quinn would just blurt it out. Slip it into normal conversation and then compliment Rachel's eyes or talk about feline osteoarthritis.

Rachel wanted to give the topic the attention it deserved.

She couldn't remember how many cups of chocolate chips she'd added, so she dumped in another two and mixed it all together. Quinn would appreciate the extra chocolate. It was all vegan, so Rachel would too.

She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to find her wife strolling towards her through the living room. Quinn had Cornelius in her arms, smiling obliviously while black fur clung to her shirt and the dog's tail whacked her shoulder.

Rachel was immediately alarmed. "Is he okay? Why are you carrying him?" she asked urgently, dropping her spoon and scanning for signs of obvious injury to the border collie.

Hacking on bones, open wounds, lumps, cavities, lacerations.

He seemed content to be squished up in Quinn's arms.

"He's fine." Quinn assured with a smile, bouncing Cornelius up a bit so that she could kiss his head. "I was giving him a hug."

Rachel relaxed and laughed exasperatedly. She went back to the cookie dough and smiled to herself when she heard Quinn gasp behind her.

"Seal!" Quinn proclaimed excitedly. Rachel suddenly felt paws pressed into her back and warm breath on her neck. "Rachel's making us cookies!"

Rachel laughed and swung her free hand behind her, slapping Quinn's thigh. "I'm making _you and me _cookies, bear." She corrected, bouncing on her toes because of the talk she wanted to have.

Quinn moved up next to Rachel, pressing Cornelius's face into Rachel's side and trying to catch Rachel's eye. "You and me and _Cornelius_."

Rachel knew that tone. That wheedling, playful tone which meant Quinn was pressing buttons and trying to make Rachel laugh. Rachel shook her head, maintaining a straight face. She began doling dough onto the cookie tray and grimaced at the small black hairs floating through the air.

"Rachel." Quinn whispered, adjusting her grip on the dog.

Rachel's lips twitched. "You're getting hair everywhere." She chided.

"It's not me. Fur's just naturally pervasive."

Rachel rolled her eyes and knocked her elbow sideways into Quinn's arm. "You're dangling the source of the fur over my cookies."

Quinn smiled again. She looked pleased with herself. "_Our _cookies." She corrected. "Yours, mine, and Seal's."

Rachel finally snorted a laugh. She put the spoon down and faced her smiling wife and rested her hands on Cornelius's fluffy back.

"You're ridiculous." She stated, brown eyes sparkling.

Quinn shrugged, holding her gaze. "When will the cookies be ready?"

Rachel ran her fingers through the splotches of black and white fur on Cornelius's back. She tilted her head and eyed Quinn curiously, ignoring the question because she knew for a fact that Quinn knew how long it took for cookies to bake.

"I want to talk to you." She said instead.

Quinn leaned forward and put Cornelius on the ground, heaving exaggeratedly and brushing all of the fur off her t-shirt. She sneezed into her arm and Rachel put the cookies in the oven before they could be further contaminated.

"Are you still worried about returning to the stage?" Quinn asked seriously, rubbing at her nose. "Because that's-"

Rachel shook her head immediately and grasped Quinn's cheeks, smiling slightly. "Go sit down, bear. I'll join you in a second."

Quinn looked suspicious. She nodded and kissed Rachel's forehead and backed out of the kitchen, pausing twice to pet Jelly and Butter. Rachel put all of the cookie ingredients away and loaded the dishwasher, hands shaking from excitement. Or sugar or insanity.

Rachel wanted to run down the street and sing and dance, which wasn't much different from her normal attitude, but she was only barely keeping her enthusiasm bottled up.

When she strode into the living room, Quinn was rubbing her back against the closet doorway, up and down like a tree.

"You know you're not _actually_ a bear, right?" she said with a smile, heading for the couch.

Quinn's eyes lit up at her voice. She pushed off the doorjamb and hurried towards Rachel. "Baby, scratch my back." She instructed, sitting next to Rachel and draping herself over the arm of the couch. "Please."

Rachel smiled fondly and ran her fingers over Quinn's back a few times, tracing shoulder blades and the dip of her spine through thin cotton.

"Let's talk first, Quinn." She requested, and Quinn sat up immediately and turned around, settling back into the cushions and gazing at Rachel expectantly, hazel eyes focused and blonde hair swept up, casual in sweats and bare feet.

"Of course." Quinn murmured. "I love you."

The best way to start off any conversation.

Rachel couldn't contain her smile. "Quinn, bear, how ready do you think you are for a baby?"

Quinn's mouth dropped open and she shifted forward slightly.

"I mean, a month? A year? Two years?" Rachel gestured with her fingers. "Because _I_ feel like I'm ready, and I don't think we should wait too long. I'd like to open the topic up for discussion."

Quinn's eyes darted between Rachel's. They looked hopeful, searching for something. "You-you want to have a baby?" she checked quietly.

Rachel took her wife's hand and nodded.

Quinn's lips curled into a smile and she laughed, loud and melodic. "_Rachel!_ Of course I'm ready to have a baby with you!"

Rachel tilted forward automatically and pressed her lips against Quinn's, steadying herself with her hands on Quinn's thighs. Quinn pushed the dark hair out of Rachel's face when she pulled back.

"You know, the gestation period of a koala is only thirty-four days." Quinn offered with a smile. "They don't have a lot of time to prepare."

Rachel could only nod. Quinn had given her that information before. She was too excited to come up with a response, or to figure out why Quinn was talking about koalas.

"How fast do you want to do this, baby?" Quinn asked, leaning forward and gripping Rachel's knees. "Within…a month? A week?" Quinn chuckled. "_Today_?"

Rachel laughed and pitched herself sideways into Quinn's shoulder. Quinn wrapped an arm around her and kissed her head and Rachel was so pleased with how this was going. "Soon." She sighed.

Quinn hummed agreeably and rubbed her back. "Do you think I should carry it?" Quinn wondered. "You'll be on the stage for a year and we don't want you to have to leave the show early. But I would like our baby to look just like you."

Rachel knew the logistics didn't need to be worked out right at that moment. She relaxed and listened to Quinn's excited musing, running her hand up the soft cotton t-shirt to scratch her wife's back.

"And we can turn the guest bedroom into a nursery, and paint a giraffe on the wall." Quinn continued animatedly. "Our donor will have to be a very nice person. Somebody who likes Barnaby and says thank you to the bus driver."

Rachel smiled against her shoulder. "And my dads can _finally_ send us all the baby clothes they've been buying."

Quinn agreed. "And all those toys and picture books. They'll be grandparents!"

Rachel tapped Quinn's cheek. "You'll be a mommy."

Quinn's smile dropped until it was small and genuine and fixed on Rachel. Her eyes were shining. Her jaw worked up and down, but no sound came out, and Rachel just leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

"All I can see are elephants." Quinn murmured.

Rachel tilted her head. All _she_ could see were von Trapps.

"And I see you making cookies with our little girl." Quinn continued. "Or frosting a cake with our little boy."

"You're not passing on your eating habits." Rachel interrupted, half-joking.

Quinn ignored her. "And I see them calling you mama, and I'll teach them how to ride a bike, but you'll be the one running after them with a video camera and Band-Aids."

Rachel grunted, unable to suppress her smile.

"And I see you in a rocking chair in the middle of the night, singing a lullaby with our beautiful little baby in your arms and your hair tied back and missing one of your socks, and Rachel…" Quinn tilted her head down until her nose pressed against Rachel's head. "I think it's the most perfect thing I've ever seen. And there's an elephant sitting next to you, so that's even better."

Rachel snorted. She could picture it all perfectly. Even the elephant sitting next to the rocking chair.

"Seal's cookies are burning." Quinn whispered.

And Rachel shoved her away, and then pulled her back for a hug, ignoring Quinn's laughter, because this woman would be carrying her baby soon and Rachel was just so in love with her that she didn't know what to do with herself.

So she let Quinn kiss her cheek one more time and decided to start with milk and cookies.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Real life has become super busy. Thank you for continuing to read and comment!

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 18: Lego House**

Rachel adjusted her feet against the coffee table and patted the heavy blonde head on her stomach.

"Listen to this one, Quinn." She requested quietly, brushing the hair out of her wife's face. Quinn's eyes were closed and her hand was fisted in Rachel's shirt, and Rachel only knew she was awake because she groaned periodically.

"Brown hair, green eyes, average height." Rachel listed from the papers in her hand. "He's a second grade teacher and he plays the guitar and coaches little league baseball."

Rachel figured elementary school teachers had to be quality people. Anybody who could deal with thirty six-year-olds at a time without flying off the handle was a quality person. She waited for a response.

Quinn grumbled and pressed her face further into Rachel's stomach.

"_Baby_." Rachel urged, trying not to smile. Quinn was probably slobbering on her. "He sounds pleasant, right?" She put a hand on Quinn's head and lolled it back and forth. All of her wife's limbs were pulled close to her body like a turtle.

Quinn whined and rolled a bit so that Rachel could see her flushed, tired face. The overhead fan blew her hair back into her eyes.

"Do you like him?" Rachel asked again when Quinn just stared.

Quinn scrunched up her nose, eyeing Rachel. She looked delirious, and Rachel squeezed her cheeks together until Quinn spoke. "Why-why did you make me eat so much, Rachel?" she moaned hoarsely. "I feel like one of those-I feel like a puffer fish."

Rachel chuckled, trying not to jostle Quinn's head. She rested a hand on Quinn's stomach and tapped it softly with her fingers.

"You were unstoppable, honey. And you'll deflate soon."

Hopefully in a nice, calm way.

Quinn stared for another second, and then sighed dramatically, snuggling closer to Rachel. "I love-I love spaghetti."

Rachel laughed shortly and ran a hand through Quinn's hair. "I know, bear." She indulged. "Now tell me, do you like this guy or not?"

Of course, Rachel would prefer an established actor or dancer or a Broadway star of her caliber, but nobody who fit that bill was in her little stack of papers. She was settling for guys who seemed at least _musically inclined_. And who didn't read like serial killers or perverts.

"He needs brown eyes." Quinn mumbled, poking Rachel's stomach. "Read another one."

Rachel grabbed Quinn's finger and squeezed it to get her to stop. "Okay," she started, "brown hair, brown eyes, average height, works in interior design, and volunteers at an after-school dance program in the city."

Quinn scrunched up her nose.

"And he paints and likes bike riding." Rachel added, briefly traumatizing herself by wondering if this was Kurt before she remembered that he had blue eyes.

Quinn reached up and grabbed Rachel's arm and started playing with her fingers and the end of her long sleeve. "I want an astronaut." She murmured. "That would be ideal. He'd be clever."

Rachel sighed exasperatedly. "Quinn, you're being impossible." She palmed her wife's hot cheeks and raised an eyebrow when Quinn met her gaze. Rachel was sure she was trying to look as pathetic as possible.

"I don't feel well." Quinn defended weakly, snuggling further into Rachel's lap. It was like Barnaby trying to fit in Jelly's cat bed.

Rachel fought the urge to kiss her all over. "You should've thought of this before you used the whole carton of spaghetti."

"This is my shirt, Rachel bear." Quinn remarked, ignoring Rachel's statement and tugging on her purple sleeve. "The sleeves are too long for you."

Rachel rolled her eyes.

Quinn swallowed and pressed the side of her face back to Rachel's stomach. "I can't hear your heart beat." She whispered after a second.

Rachel wondered if spaghetti could cause brain damage.

She ran a finger along the bridge of Quinn's nose and up over her eyebrow. "That's because you're listening to my stomach." She said with a smile.

Quinn scrambled up clumsily and shifted her ear to Rachel's left breast, elbowing Rachel in the ribs accidentally and knocking her head into Rachel's chin before settling. Rachel wrapped an arm around her to hold her still.

"Bear, _focus_." Rachel instructed when Quinn sighed contentedly. Quinn nodded against her chest. "Here's another one. Brown hair, brown eyes, medium height, graphic designer, teaches guitar and drums on the weekends."

Rachel smiled when she read the next line. "And he has a dog named Deenie."

Quinn's eyes opened fully. "What-what kind of dog is it?" she asked blearily.

Because that was the most important part of choosing a donor. Knowing what kind of dog he possessed.

"A black Labrador." Rachel replied, glad to have Quinn's full attention, however impaired it was.

Quinn half-smiled. "I wish we could meet him." she mused. "It would tell us a lot about who he is."

Rachel frowned. "The guy or the dog?"

"Deenie." Quinn stated like it was obvious. "He could tell us everything."

Rachel leaned further back into the couch cushions and watched Quinn's face for a second. She had to smile. Quinn was flushed and tired and suffering from spaghetti over-indulgence and delirium, but she was still making an honest effort to engage Rachel in this conversation.

"Baby, we ruled out people we know as donors because they'd probably feel obligated to fulfill some kind of parental role." Rachel said reasonably. "You don't actually want to meet the guy first, right?"

Rachel would prefer to avoid creating a giant web of unnecessary familial obligations, thank you very much.

Quinn shook her head immediately. "Just Deenie."

Rachel smiled. "But the guy's a _maybe_?" she checked.

Quinn hummed vaguely, closing her eyes again and cuddling even closer. Rachel took it as a yes. She stroked Quinn's hair fondly and stayed quiet for a minute, listening to her wife's breathing and enjoying the warm, comforting weight on her chest.

Quinn's lips moved like she was mouthing along to Rachel's heartbeat.

"Bear, let's go to bed." Rachel finally suggested, stilling her hand on Quinn's head.

Quinn groaned softly. "No." she murmured. "Keep going. I liked that one. He's sat-satisfactory. If it can't be you, it can be him."

Rachel smiled. "Because of his dog?"

"Because he likes art and music, and he's smart if he's a graphic designer." Quinn explained, slowly shaking her head. "And I met a policeman once in Central Park, and he was riding a black and white horse named Deenie. It's…meant to be."

Rachel wasn't sure how solidly she trusted Quinn's evaluation criteria.

"We'll review all of these when you're awake and in your right mind." She suggested, shifting a bit to indicate that they should go to bed.

Quinn chuckled deliriously. "And when I've deflated, right?" she sat up slowly and tried to brush the fluffy mess of hair out of her bright eyes. "I am in my right mind."

Rachel leaned forward and kissed her warm cheek. "When you feel better."

Quinn stumbled into the coffee table when she stood up, and Rachel wrapped an arm around her and shoved the dogs out of their way.

"Rachel." Quinn said seriously, stopping next to the fish tank and eyeing Franklin the turtle. "We should get a puf-puffer fish."

Rachel laughed shortly and tugged on Quinn's arm to keep her moving.

"They eat crust-crustaceans and mollusks." Quinn continued, focus wandering. "And they're the second most poisonous vertebrates in the world."

Which is exactly what this house full of curious dogs and cats needed. Rachel knew for a fact that if she tried to get a puffer fish, it would end up lodged in her skin before even touching the water in the aquarium.

"Don't they live in salt water?" she questioned, tipping Quinn onto the bed. "Franklin likes his fresh water."

Quinn faltered.

"You're not thinking straight, bear." Rachel said with a quiet laugh. She pressed a kiss to Quinn's lips and then to her forehead. "You don't need a puffer fish. We'll have a baby soon."

Quinn's smile split her face. She nodded against the pillow and pulled Rachel back on top of her for a hug. "I can't wait, baby." She whispered against Rachel's hair.

Rachel gave up trying to remain standing and just collapsed on top of her wife with a loud grunt. Quinn laughed and rolled Rachel off of her stomach, and Rachel realized that Quinn smelled like spaghetti.

"I can't wait either." Rachel promised, letting Quinn hold her just until she fell asleep. "It'll be the best day."

~oooooooooooo~

Rehearsals for _Hello Dolly_ started the next week, halfway through August. Rachel blinked her eyes open on the morning of the first day to find Quinn sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at her fondly. She was dressed for work and she smelled like minty toothpaste and donuts.

Rachel groaned and tried to bury her face in the pillow.

"Hold on, baby." Quinn requested, prying the pillow away. "You can go back to sleep in a minute."

There was something lying on Rachel's legs, and she blinked her eyes open to see that it was Cloud, which is why she was sweltering under the blankets. Barnaby was in Quinn's spot on the other side of the bed.

"What do you want, bear?" Rachel grumbled, pressing a hand to her forehead to hold her eyelids open.

Quinn smiled softly at her. She rested a hand on Rachel's hip. "I'll be gone by the time you leave, and today's your first day." She stated, leaning forward. "I just wanted to tell you that you're a star and that stage is where you belong, and it's okay to be nervous. Also, I love you, and I wish you all the luck in the world even though you don't need it because you'll be marvelous like always."

Rachel was far from humble, but she felt herself flush at her wife's words. Quinn grinned and tilted forward to press a kiss to her forehead.

"I made you a lunch." Quinn continued. Rachel smiled. "A sandwich with that guacamole you like, even though it has onions, and half of the sugar cookies I made."

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "How many is _half_?"

"Nine." Quinn answered easily, tapping her fingers over the blanket on Rachel's hip.

It was actually less than Rachel was expecting. She'd be able to eat nine cookies with her lunch. Broadway was exhausting.

"Do you have the other half?" Rachel asked with a knowing smile.

Quinn stared at her, expressionless.

Rachel laughed. She opened her arms and pulled Quinn down for a hug, careful not to mess up her hair or wrinkle her clothes too badly.

"Thank you for packing me a lunch and waking me up to wish me luck, bear." She said against Quinn's ear. "You're so good to me. And you have rainbow sprinkles in your hair."

Quinn pulled back and smiled at her. "It's because I love you, you know."

Rachel hummed. "I thought you might." She carefully picked the sprinkles out of Quinn's hair and dropped them on the side table.

Quinn watched her, smiling sweetly, like there was no place she'd rather be than perched on the edge of her bed with her sleepy wife plucking sprinkles out of her hair.

Rachel finished and rolled back over, pressing her face into the pillow again, ready to go back to sleep. "I love you too, Quinn." She murmured. "Now go hug a bear."

Quinn leaned forward to hug Rachel again, and Rachel laughed soundlessly into her pillow.

Rachel held onto that feeling as she met some of her co-stars, the people who'd play Horace and Ambrose and Barnaby and Cornelius. They seemed like they were in awe of her, rightly so, but then Rachel told them about her dogs' names and shared her cookies, and they all settled into an easy camaraderie.

They'd find out she was crazy soon enough.

At lunchtime, Rachel discovered that Quinn had also packed her a vegan chocolate pudding and baby carrots and a good luck note signed with an elephant. She displayed her lunch proudly and delighted in the envy of her castmates.

She pulled out her phone to text Quinn a thank you.

**Rachel: I have the best wife****.**

The choreographer, whose name was Mike Chang, sat next to Rachel and told her about his plans for the production. He smiled and offered her some Cheetos when Rachel told him that the person she was texting was her wife.

**Quinn: I agree.**

Rachel laughed.

**Rachel: She's nicer than you. **

**Rachel: Kind of a weirdo, but nice****.**

**Quinn: I have a weird wife as well****.**** She never stops singing ugghhh.**

Rachel opened her pudding and smiled at her phone.

**Rachel: YOU LIKE IT.**

**Quinn: Mmm. I'm about to work on a penguin's foot, baby.**

Rachel pouted at having to say goodbye so soon.

**Rachel: Love you. XO. **

**Quinn: xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox.**

Rachel laughed at her phone.

"She must be pretty cool." Mike mused with a friendly smile. He pointed to Rachel's lunch. "If she made those, you know to keep her forever."

Rachel agreed.

Her director hoped to get through all of the dialogue in the first act in one day, so she and Mike and the rest of the cast quickly got back to work. She was exhausted, but excited, when she walked through the apartment door that evening, and she happily greeted the three dogs who met her at the door.

"Hi, babe!" Quinn called from the kitchen. She appeared a second later, rushing forward to kiss Rachel's smile. Rachel chuckled at the affection.

"I can't wait to hear about your day." Quinn enthused. She took Rachel's hand and led her to the kitchen, plopping her into a chair at the bar before getting back to whatever she was making. "But I have to talk to you about something first."

Quinn was smiling, but it was soft and sympathetic, and she kept grating the cheese and sniffing whatever was in the pan on the stove.

"What is it?" Rachel asked warily, knocking her feet against the breakfast bar and watching her wife. "Can it wait until later, or-"

"George is eighteen, Rachel." Quinn interrupted, twirling the spoon nervously in her fingers..

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "Our…cat?"

They definitely didn't know any other Georges.

Quinn nodded.

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"He stayed in his bed all day." Quinn said carefully, finally setting the spoon down.

Rachel immediately saw where this was going. And she almost smiled because Quinn was trying to break it to her softly even though Rachel acted like the animals were the bane of her existence.

"His joints are just…the cartilage is gone. And even if it didn't hurt to move, his muscles are weak because he's so old." Quinn continued, squeezing the edge of the counter. "And you know how he's been having accidents more frequently? I think his kidneys are failing."

Rachel slid out of her chair and walked around the breakfast bar to stand right next to Quinn. She pried one of Quinn's hands off the counter and squeezed and waited until hazel eyes met her own.

"What are you saying, baby?" she asked softly.

Quinn took a deep breath. "He's-he's happy now, staying in his bed, but soon he won't be." She explained, voice only slightly shaky. "We should look into…"

Rachel could infer how that sentence was supposed to end.

But that was her big, gray, fluffy cat who'd slept on the clothes in her closet for six years. Who climbed up the curtains and fought with Benjamin on a daily basis. It was fatso Butter's best friend and the greenest eyes in the house.

"What about Butter?" Rachel asked quietly, aware that both cats were the same age.

How Butter turned out psychotic and George relatively sane, Rachel didn't know.

Quinn coughed and smiled slightly. "She's healthy for her age. She spilled milk on my laptop today. Perfectly fine."

Rachel's lips twitched.

"And what about everybody else?" she questioned.

Lay it all out now so that Rachel wouldn't be surprised later.

Quinn blinked her eyes exaggeratedly, probably picturing all of their animals' faces. "Barnaby's doing well with the arthritis drugs." She said with a half-smile. "He was chasing Jelly today. But Charizard's dyspnea is getting worse and he's anemic, so I don't think he's getting enough oxygen."

Rachel frowned. She'd have respiratory problems too if somebody put firecrackers in her mouth.

"I think we can work on his nose some more, surgically, to fix that." Quinn suggested softly. "Open his airways. He's old, but strong."

Rachel nodded immediately.

Quinn swallowed. "Everybody's fine, little bear." She assured after a minute, sniffling slightly.

"We'll give George some time." Rachel suggested quietly.

She hugged Quinn and rubbed her back through the thin cotton t-shirt, and then pulled back and picked up Jelly because she was winding her way around Rachel's legs. Quinn went back to her cheese and Rachel watched her carefully.

"I-I worked on a tiger's teeth today." Quinn proclaimed, spinning around abruptly, eyes brighter than before.

Rachel smiled at her. "After the penguin? How did you like that?"

Jelly climbed up onto Rachel's shoulder like it was her own personal tree.

"I shaved down two of his teeth because they were making his mouth bleed." Quinn explained, rocking on her feet and waving the cheese grater through the air. "He should-he should feel better now. And the penguin's al-alright as well. I love it, Rachel."

Rachel smiled and stepped closer and tapped Quinn's nose before she could get carried away. "I know you do, you weirdo."

Quinn grinned and reached around behind her, setting down the grater and grabbing slices of cucumber. She held one up to Rachel's mouth.

"So my day was good, Rachel bear. How was yours?"

Rachel took the cucumber between her teeth. She put Jelly down before she answered and went into the living room to get George, carefully picking up his fluffy body and hugging him close to her chest. Quinn watched her with a small smile.

Then Rachel settled back into the breakfast bar with her cat and her wife and told them about her first day back to Broadway.

~oooooooooooooo~

"You need someone dark." Santana stated loudly, leaning over the back of the couch and pointing at Quinn. "Like, _dark_ dark. To counteract Sunny Delight's brightness. Then your child will be normal."

Rachel choked on her drink and Brittany thumped her on the back.

Quinn frowned.

"Yeah. That's definitely not how it works." Puck drawled. "They want the guy to look like Rachel, so they need to find the shortest, loudest, bounciest, crazy-eyed little dude they can."

"Hey!" Quinn interjected, ignoring Santana's snort. Puck looked at her expectantly, sprawled out on the rug with a beer and Barnaby. Quinn threw popcorn at his face. "Rachel has nice eyes."

Rachel snorted a laugh and shoved Quinn's shoulder, tipping her sideways into the arm of the couch. Quinn recovered immediately and wrapped her arms around Rachel's waist, squeezing her tightly. Rachel squealed against her neck.

"Their spawn is going to be insane." Kurt said conversationally, holding his glass up in Santana's direction. She nodded sagely, but her lips twitched at Rachel's loud laughter.

"Just so you guys know, I'm not changing diapers." Puck declared, propping his feet on the coffee table. He shuffled through the papers in his hands and then peeked around them at Rachel and Quinn. "But you should totally go for the model guy. Who cares what his personality is like? You'll be molding your kid like clay."

"That'll be some weird-ass clay." Santana smirked.

Rachel huffed, still secured in Quinn's arms like a koala, and flung a handful of popcorn in Santana's direction. "Stop insulting our future child!"

"Rachel, she's insulting you, not your child." Brittany clarified helpfully.

Rachel pouted at all the popcorn on the floor she'd have to clean up later. Quinn squeezed her again.

"Our baby will be perfect." She whispered in Rachel's ear, and Rachel nodded and leaned against her side. "Rosy cheeks and chubby hands and perfect big brown eyes." Quinn kissed Rachel's ear.

Rachel smiled. She knew her friends were happy for them. They'd all had face-splitting grins on their faces when Quinn and Rachel told them the news. In San Diego, Sam had dropped his phone and called for Penguin the Dalmatian, and the line devolved into a shouting, barking mess before it went dead.

"Noah, musical talent is born, not bred." Rachel informed once Quinn stopped whispering. "Our child has to have it in his or her bones, _and_ _then_ we can shape him or her like Play-Doh."

Quinn nodded next to her.

Rachel pictured herself getting little dolls to do her bidding. She could create her own minions, an army of them molded in her image.

"But if our baby doesn't want anything to do with music, that's okay too." Quinn added, nudging Rachel's shoulder.

Rachel turned and stared at her for a second, the sharp line of her jaw and curious lift of her eyebrow. "Sure." She finally conceded, watching Quinn's lips quirk. "_Unlikely_, but okay."

If Rachel's little baby wanted to be an athlete or a scientist or anything else in the world, that would be okay too. Rachel could definitely coach a soccer team. She was an expert on sorting through natural talent, so her kids would be all-stars. She could bring in grapes and juice boxes for half-time and learn how to wash grass stains out of tiny jerseys.

Maybe she could subtly brainwash the child as a baby to be interested in musicals by playing _Funny Girl_ and _Grease_ and _The Sound of Music_ in its nursery.

But she didn't want to make the baby sick of musicals. She'd be treading a fine line.

Quinn was watching her like she was insane, so Rachel smiled brightly and patted her thigh. Quinn chuckled knowingly.

"Why don't _you_ just carry the baby since you're trying so hard to get a donor who looks like you?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow at Rachel.

Rachel sat up in her seat. "My job is more physically demanding." She stated. "And I'd be allowed less maternity leave, so it only makes sense that Quinn would carry our first child."

"Really? The woman who eats walnut cookies even though she's allergic and trips on the stairs and leaps over furniture?" Santana joked. "_That's_ who you're trusting to carry your baby?"

Kurt gasped. He sounded scandalized.

Quinn exhaled quietly and ducked her head, staring hard at her hands in her lap.

"Santana!" Rachel exclaimed, wishing she had something more substantial than popcorn to throw in her direction. "Why would you say that!"

Brittany punched Santana's shoulder.

"Dude, that's not…" Puck trailed off, shaking his head. "You're such an ass, Lopez."

Rachel wrapped an arm around Quinn's torso and squeezed tightly. She twisted around her wife's body to try to catch her eye, but Quinn wouldn't look up. She had a small smile fixed to her face, but she was digging her nails into the palm of her hand.

Santana put her hands in the air. "Whoa, okay, it was just a joke." she defended, keeping her distance from Brittany, who looked ready to punch her again. "Quinn, I was just joking. You know that, right?"

Quinn rocked sideways into Rachel, humming softly.

"Santana, apologize right now." Kurt ordered sternly, reaching over from the arm chair to pat one of Quinn's hands.

Rachel glared at Santana until she complied.

"Sorry, Sunny." She mumbled, eyes flashing with real concern. Brittany smiled. "You know I didn't mean it. It was just a joke."

"Good." Kurt said, lips twitching. "Now come and give her a hug."

Santana threw popcorn at his face. "Fuck off."

"Guys, shut up." Rachel said loudly, genuinely annoyed. She turned back to Quinn and brushed the blonde hair out of her face. Quinn's eyes dragged up to meet hers, refusing to look anywhere else in the room. They were earnest and dark.

"This-this baby will be the most important thing in my life, Rachel." Quinn murmured, only loud enough for Rachel to hear. "I'll keep it safe. Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart, right?"

Rachel was having chest pains.

Quinn puffed out her cheeks and looked back down at her hands. "Like Piglet. I'll love our baby more than anything in the world."

Rachel wrapped her in a hug. "I know sweetheart." she assured quietly. "You don't have to tell me." She kissed Quinn's neck and then tugged on her ears, glad to elicit a small chuckle.

When Rachel pulled back, Santana was standing in front of them with Brittany's hand on the small of her back holding her in place. She looked dejected, and she sighed heavily and bent down and pulled a reluctant Quinn into a hug.

After a second, Quinn returned it, pressing her lips together to contain her smile.

"You'll be a great mom, Q." Santana muttered, pulling away and then brushing off her shirt like she'd hugged a cat and was now covered in hair. "Britt says to not listen to me because I don't think before I speak."

Brittany hummed and nodded from behind her girlfriend.

Quinn thanked Santana and then scooted to the side and leaned back into Rachel. Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn so that she could play with her hands, and she was wondering why Quinn's hair smelled like cotton candy when Blaine appeared in the living room.

It was surprising.

Kurt had sent him out for more snacks an hour ago and he hadn't been heard from since. Vanished off the grid.

"Hey! Kurt exclaimed, bouncing up to greet him. "We thought you'd been kidnapped!"

Blaine laughed and set his grocery bags on the coffee table. "I can see that." He drawled. "That's why you're all lounging around the living room like nothing's wrong."

"We thought we lost you, dude." Puck assured, already tearing into a bag of cheddar Goldfish.

Quinn eyed it longingly and Rachel leaned forward and snatched it out of Puck's hands. He went for Chex Mix instead.

"I was just thinking." Blaine said vaguely. He stood in front of Kurt and straightened his collar and reached into his cardigan. "I know it's a special time for Rachel and Quinn right now, but I was walking home, and it just hit me, and I-I mean, I just couldn't wait."

Rachel narrowed her eyes at them.

"And we're with our friends right now, so…" Blaine trailed off and got down on one knee, and Rachel gasped loudly in Quinn's ear.

Kurt didn't look too shocked. Maybe he was _in_ shock. His blue eyes were wide and fixed on Blaine, and Rachel heard the proposal, but not the "yes" because she was just barely suppressing the urge to throw herself out of the window in her excitement.

Puck rolled himself off the ground, knocking Cloud in the face with his leg. Cloud bounced around because that obviously meant Puck was trying to play with him.

Rachel was the first to shriek, like always, followed by Brittany, and the two of them rushed forward to hug their friends. Rachel was sure she was crying, and Kurt spun her around and she stumbled into the side table, but she couldn't stop crying.

Quinn caught Santana's eye, both smiling, but still seated and not quite so vocal about their excitement.

Rachel stepped on Puck's leg on her way back to the couch and fell into Quinn's arms. Quinn laughed at the mess that was her wife and squeezed her and blew a raspberry on her neck. Puck was laughing, and Blaine and Kurt were laughing, and Brittany was squealing, and Rachel knew that her baby would be lucky to grow up surrounded by this.

"I want to do it soon." Quinn proclaimed, flushed and warm and holding Rachel securely, drying her happy tears. "I pick the guy who has Deenie the dog, and I think we should do it soon."

Rachel nodded and kissed Quinn, passionately, pushed back against the pillows, because everybody else was distracted.

She definitely agreed.


	19. Chapter 19

AN: Beginning of this is a bit awkward.

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 19: And Our World Turned**

As it turned out, turkey basters weren't the recommended hardware for at-home insemination.

Rachel was mildly disappointed when the doctor informed her of this fact. Sure, she was glad she wouldn't have to buy a new one for Thanksgiving, but using the clinical, numbered needle-less syringe seemed far more awkward and a lot less fun.

But then Rachel realized she and Quinn would be in the middle of a "sexual activity" when they "did the deed," as Quinn liked to say, and it was almost guaranteed to be pleasurable. And they weren't just gallivanting around with basters and syringes; they were making a baby.

Hopefully.

Which is why Quinn was lying on the bed with a pillow under her hips and Rachel hovering over her body, rocking slowly and surely and watching Quinn's flushed face to make sure her wife wasn't _there_ yet.

That wasn't supposed to happen until _after_ Rachel "did the deed."

"Are you sure it's properly thawed?" Rachel murmured, glancing at the syringe on the side table and then back at Quinn's dark eyes.

Quinn groaned lowly and arched up into Rachel's front, whining for more contact.

"I mean, how are we supposed to tell?" Rachel muttered. "What if it's not ready, or frozen in the middle like-"

Quinn laughed shortly. "Babe, it's not a steak." She stated breathlessly. "We-we followed the instructions perfectly."

Rachel nodded, still skeptical that she she'd be shooting a vial of ice up into her wife's privates.

She looked down to where her fingers were working on Quinn, trying to gauge how much time she had left, and then she dropped her head to kiss along Quinn's neck and shoulders, delighting in the little sounds she was receiving.

"_Rachel_." Quinn moaned, taking Rachel's free hand in one of her own and placing it firmly over her boob.

Rachel chuckled lowly and squeezed, and then replaced her hand with her mouth. Quinn reacted like she'd been shocked.

"You should-you should do it now." Quinn stuttered a minute later, palming Rachel's cheek to get her attention.

Rachel stopped all movement and hovered over Quinn on her elbows, trying to catch her breath. "Yeah? You're close?"

Quinn just hummed.

Rachel crawled carefully over Quinn and rolled off the bed on shaky legs. Quinn reached out and lightly slapped her butt, and Rachel whirled around and glared playfully at her wife's bright eyes and heaving chest.

"It feels like we should be recording this for posterity." Quinn remarked breathlessly, watching Rachel prepare the syringe.

Rachel grimaced. That's _exactly_ what she needed. A video floating around on the internet of her impregnating her wife.

"We'll have it in our heads." She assured, smiling at Quinn's chuckle.

"And, if it works, in our hearts and arms and nursery as well." Quinn added.

Rachel climbed back onto the bed and adjusted the pillow under Quinn's hips before kneeling between her legs. She kissed both of Quinn's knees, and then sprawled over her body to kiss her lips and forehead and cheeks.

She finished with Quinn's nose, and Quinn scrunched it up and eyed her adoringly. "I love you, Rachel."

Rachel grinned. "Love you too, baby."

Quinn bucked her hips when Rachel didn't move. "Now please, let's get on with this."

"You just want to get off." Rachel laughed softly.

Quinn half-smiled, but shook her head seriously. "I want to make a baby."

Rachel studied her fondly and brushed the blonde hair off her forehead, and then kissed her once more and moved back between her legs. Quinn reached out and Rachel held her hand and kissed her thighs and her stomach and her abdomen while she worked with the syringe.

It went in easily, and Rachel kept eye contact with Quinn, making sure everything felt okay and not like a rush of ice being pushed into her, and Quinn just kept nodding, until the syringe was empty and Rachel withdrew it and set it on the bed by her feet.

Quinn tugged on her hand until Rachel crawled up her body and lay lightly on top of her, and Quinn wrapped her up in a hug and kissed her hair.

Rachel chuckled into her chest. Her heart was warm and hammering and excited, and she kind of felt like they'd just jumped out of a plane, but they weren't finished yet.

"Bear, you need to have-"

"I know." Quinn interrupted quietly, shifting Rachel so that her thigh landed lightly between Quinn's legs. "Just…like this."

Rachel nodded. She moved slowly, and then quickly, keeping eye contact the whole time, and Quinn was smiling when they both started crying and fell together into a warm, exhausted pile. Quinn pressed her lips to Rachel's, too tired to actually do anything, so they lay there, stuck together like those toy bears with magnetic noses.

"What if it doesn't work?" Rachel whispered once her temperature had dropped and her breathing was back to normal.

Quinn shifted a bit and tapped her nose. "Then we'll try again, babe."

Rachel worried her lip between her teeth.

"Like lions, Rachel, as many times as we need." Quinn continued. "Not, you know, _fifty times a day_ like lions, but-"

Rachel snorted a laugh and flicked Quinn's chest.

Quinn grinned. "_But_, maybe we'll try it at the doctor's next time, if this doesn't work, and we'll _keep_ trying until we have a little baby, okay?"

Rachel watched her honest hazel eyes and then nodded and sighed contentedly. They lay quietly for a minute, and Rachel pressed her ear against Quinn's chest and listened to her heartbeat.

"How long did they say you have to stay in this position?" she asked softly.

"Half an hour."

Rachel hummed. "And it wouldn't be beneficial to stay like this for longer than that?"

Quinn narrowed her eyes. "Rachel, I'm not lying like this for the rest of the day."

Rachel tugged on her hair. "Not the _whole_ _day_, just-"

"I'll cuddle with you all day, little bear, but not elevated, naked, and spread like I'm in a clinic." Quinn pressed her nose into Rachel's cheek and rubbed.

Rachel had to smile. "You'll cuddle with me all day?"

"Of course."

Rachel nodded to herself. "Okay. That's okay, then."

"Don't fret your pretty little head." Quinn murmured, playfully prodding one of Rachel's boobs.

Forty minutes later, Quinn sat up, and then _stood_ up, and Rachel pushed her ridiculous thoughts, like "What if it all comes rushing back out?" to the back of her mind, because she was _not_ an imbecile. She was just worried.

But Quinn was well, and it was Sunday afternoon, so they baked peanut butter cookies and danced to the _Grease_ soundtrack and walked the dogs in the park, and Rachel hoped that maybe, possibly, they had made a baby today.

~oooooooooooo~

A week later, George stopped eating his food.

Quinn sat on the floor with him for two hours, sticking her fingers into the can of meat and whispering to him and trying to get him to eat, but he refused everything after one lick. He eyed Quinn disdainfully, and Rachel would've laughed if it wasn't so sad.

He wouldn't get up and he wouldn't eat, and his green eyes had turned yellow, so Quinn came home from work the next day with a high dose of Pentobarbital and directions to Blaine's parents' house in New Jersey.

Rachel held the fluffy gray cat, snuggled up close to her chest, and Quinn gave the injection, steady and stoic because it was the only thing that could be done. Rachel hummed under her breath and dragged her fingers through George's fur.

"I guess…he'll meet Pongo, right?" Quinn murmured, a little desperately, resting a hand over Rachel's on George's head.

Rachel half-smiled. Her own eyes were watery, but Quinn's were completely dry. "Definitely." She nodded. "Wherever he goes, he'll climb all the curtains and knock over all the lamps, and it'll be just like home, baby."

Quinn sighed and bit her cheek, and she hummed with Rachel and played with George's paws for several minutes. Rachel squeezed her hand when George's chest stopped rising and falling, and Butter sat several feet away on the coffee table, watching them intently with her odd-colored eyes.

"She'll miss him." Quinn whispered, and Rachel nodded, because she never wanted to find out what it was like to lose a best friend.

The drive to Blaine's parents' house in New Jersey was peaceful, and Quinn tapped her feet to the radio, and Rachel watched the clouds, remembering the last time they'd made this journey.

They were met by Brittany, Puck, and Santana, and found that Mr. Anderson and Blaine and Kurt had already dug a hole, under the trees and next to the rock marked "Po."

"Would you like to say something, Brittany?" Rachel asked, leaning into Quinn and realizing that her wife was going to stay quiet.

Brittany straightened up immediately and cleared her throat. She handed her sunglasses to Santana and looked around at their friends.

"The first time I saw Georgie, he was in a cage at the open house of an animal rescue where Quinn used to work, and I thought he was a koala."

Quinn's lips quirked up.

"He was a fatty, like Lord Tubbington, but George shrunk the more I got to know him. It was like magic, and he turned normal size, and then spent all his time hanging upside down from the curtain rods like a circus performer."

Rachel chuckled at that, and turned her head up to see that Quinn was smiling fully, eyes a little misty.

Brittany winked at them. "I think if Rachel and Quinn had taken him to the circus, they would've let him join." She mused. "I know Quinn says the circus is awful, but maybe George can be the acrobat he's always dreamed of being in Heaven."

Santana laughed and nudged her girlfriend in the ribs, and Puck stepped forward, smiling slightly, and settled George and his fleecy green blanket in the neat little hole.

"So, I'm sure George will be hanging out with big, fluffy Po and all the other animals up in the sky, and I know he knows we'll miss him," Brittany continued enthusiastically, "and we'll totally see you again, George, but for now, rest peacefully you chubby little kitty."

Rachel made a mental note to let Brittany speak at all of their animals' interments. She turned the whole thing into a sweet, optimistic occasion that had Quinn laughing against Rachel's shoulder.

"I think George would make a good acrobat." Quinn remarked, pawing at her eyes.

Rachel smiled up at her and swept her thumbs along Quinn's cheeks. "Like bears, right? You always say how they'd make wonderful acrobats as well."

It was a discussion had far too frequently in their house.

Quinn nodded absently. "You know, we gave him six years in a loving home, after he was abandoned by the Hudson and starving to death." She said quietly. She squeezed Rachel closer to her side. "I'm proud of us."

Rachel kissed her shoulder and watched Mr. Anderson settle a stone engraved with "George" on top of the fresh dirt. She sighed and leaned back in Quinn's arms, and Puck did a double-take in their direction.

"Dude, your nose is bleeding." He informed, brow furrowed.

And Rachel lifted her hand up and groaned, because he was right, and _of course_ this would happen right now.

Quinn whipped around in front of her and gripped her shoulders, and Blaine ran back to the house for paper towels.

"Just-tilt your head back, babe." Quinn instructed, covering Rachel's hand over her nose.

Rachel nodded. This was old hat.

"That's disgusting, Berry." Santana muttered, standing on her tip toes for a good view.

Brittany knocked her in the side. "It's turning your teeth pink."

"I'b find." Rachel said loudly, grimacing at the coppery taste in her mouth.

Quinn tapped her cheek, eyes flashing with concern. "Don't talk, Rachel, you'll choke on your own blood."

And if _that_ wasn't an incentive to keep quiet, Rachel didn't know what was.

She let Quinn and Blaine clean her up, and explained to her friends that she was just too intense for her body sometimes and that she _was_ fine, and then she sat in the sun with a wet cloth and her wife, and probably the spirit of an overweight, gray cat.

Quinn rubbed at her nose with the cloth, holding her jaw to keep her still.

"It's like a siren that goes off when you feel too much." Quinn observed, pinching Rachel's cheeks together.

Rachel laughed and squirmed away.

"Have you been sneaking coffee?" Quinn questioned, eyebrow raised.

Rachel shook her head.

Quinn pushed her shoulders until she fell back into the grass and then hovered over her, carefully studying her face. "I believe you."

"I'd never lie to you."

Quinn wiped at her nose again, and then tilted forward and kissed it. "More yoga, then."

Rachel laughed, because she knew what "yoga" meant, and because she obviously needed some other external outlet for her emotions than her _nose_.

"We'll figure it out." She said, and then laughed loudly while Quinn tickled her in the grass, because this was a good place to start.

~ooooooooooooo~

A meeting with Tom seemed like a good idea, because they'd only seen him once since they'd been back from California, and they were trying for a baby and Rachel's nose was bleeding and they both had new jobs, and really, there was just a whole pot full of things that could possibly go wrong.

Rachel reached for the door of Tom's building, but Quinn made a noise of protest and seized her arm before she could open it.

"I haven't finished my ice cream." Quinn stated, holding up her chocolate cone.

"Well, hurry up, then." Rachel requested. She took a few steps away from the door and crossed her arms to watch Quinn.

Quinn licked leisurely at the ice cream, savoring it and licking her lips and then smiling nicely as a stranger with a dog walked by.

Rachel watched her tongue dip into the cone, and she blushed, aware that she shouldn't be so flustered by a woman with ice cream on her face.

"Quinn, hurry up." She repeated, glancing at the time on her phone to see that they were already late.

Quinn stared at her for a second. And then she pushed the rest of the ice cream into her mouth, puffing out her cheeks and covering her lips so that it didn't drip.

Rachel scrunched up her face. "You're getting it _everywhere_, hon."

Quinn coughed, or choked, and Rachel pulled a napkin out of her bag and handed it to her wife.

"Agghh ghu." Quinn managed.

Rachel linked arms with her and walked into the building, eager to move this out of the public eye. Quinn was finished swallowing by the time they reached the fifth floor, and she stopped outside Dr. Madison's office and smiled at Rachel, showing all her teeth.

"Do I have chocolate on my face?" she checked, moving her head around at different angles.

Rachel smiled. "No. You're fine."

And Quinn took the opportunity to kiss her, before sweeping into the lobby and greeting the fish and leading Rachel to Tom's office.

It was as blue as ever, and his hair was sprinkled with gray, but his eyes still sparkled. He dove straight into business, as usual, tipping backwards in his chair and juggling a stress ball in his hands.

"So, how much longer will it be before you know if you're pregnant or not?" he questioned curiously, about ten minutes into the session, eyes flitting between Rachel and Quinn.

"A week." Quinn answered, reaching for Rachel's hand.

Rachel's knees bounced in excitement.

Tom grinned. "You two will make fantastic parents."

Rachel remembered the Beanie Baby sitting at home, named by Tom's son, and she smiled because this guy probably knew what he was talking about.

"How much have you thought about this?" he continued, clasping his hands together. "I know you have loads of time to really work things out, but-just in general-what's your plan?"

Quinn glanced at Rachel, and then straightened in her seat. "Well, I'll have maternity leave when the baby comes-a few months, I'm assuming- and then when I go back to work, Rachel will look after the baby during the day and I'll take over during her shows."

"We haven't purchased anything or painted any walls yet." Rachel added.

Her dads had bought enough baby merchandise to last a lifetime.

"I'd like a green hippopotamus on the nursery wall." Quinn stated sagely, looking at Rachel.

Rachel imagined waking up to find a large, violent river mammal looming over her bed. She was skeptical. "That sounds…terrifying."

"Wait, not-not an anatomically or aesthetically accurate one," Quinn rushed, smile dropping, "one that's-we can make it smiling! Like a cartoon."

Rachel's lips twitched.

"Or-or a less malevolent animal, like an elephant. A green elephant."

"Your feelings about what you'd like on the wall are rather strong, Quinn." Tom observed, amused.

Quinn clamped her mouth shut and flushed, right up to her ears, and Rachel remembered the elephant in the closet at the children's home and the animals on the wall in Lisa's house.

"I think we can paint a big green hippo on the nursery wall." Rachel remarked lightly, squeezing Quinn's hand.

Quinn looked grateful. "Or an elephant. You'd have to be exceedingly antagonistic to get an elephant to attack you."

Rachel didn't know why _that_ was important, but she nodded.

"How is your anxiety, Quinn?" Tom asked. "New job, possible pregnancy…Are you doing well?"

Quinn shook her head around and bounced her knees, and Rachel smiled because that was exactly what she expected.

"I-yes, I am. We are." Quinn answered. "I have-I think being able to focus on the zoo and the possible baby actually helps alleviate anxiety. Or…block it out. I'm not sure. It might not be entirely healthy."

Quinn frowned as she thought about it, and Tom laughed and waved her off.

"You work with bears now, Quinn. Of course your anxiety is going to drop." Tom proclaimed. "You are absolutely comfortable where you are, and you just need to be prepared for when things start changing. Your routine will be turned upside-down and you won't have time to process or the opportunity to take a day away from people, so the sooner you start preparing yourself, the better."

Quinn bit her lip, twirling the rubber band around her wrist nervously.

"We _have_ started preparing." Rachel assured. "Every day, Quinn, you get better with people. And you settle and open up and let go of your routine, and we _will_ be able to handle a baby when it comes."

By painting large, violent mammals on nursery room walls.

Quinn considered that. She studied Rachel, and then smiled slightly and reached out to place a hand on top of Rachel's head.

"You're right, baby." she agreed quietly. Her eyes sparkled. "Now tell Tom about your nose bleed and the fact that your tiny body can't handle big emotions."

Rachel huffed and ducked out from Quinn's hand, and Tom laughed jovially.

"Nosebleeds again?" he questioned.

"Just one." Rachel argued.

And she'd already told herself to get back to the big bouncy yoga balls this weekend.

"As long as you know how to deal with it…" Tom drawled vaguely, eyebrow raised.

Rachel sighed in exasperation. "I am married to the greatest woman, who just got a fantastic new job, and we _may_ be having a baby very soon. I'm starring in _Hello, Dolly!_ this fall, and I have a gorgeous home and supportive friends, and it's _all_ just happy stress. Very, very happy."

Quinn hummed. "Like, she bursts at the seams, and then her happiness comes streaming down her nose."

Rachel was still annoyed, but she snorted a laugh at that description and the wise way in which it was delivered.

Tom chuckled. "You two seem to know exactly how to handle yourselves." He stated proudly. "Six years ago it was a _much_ different story."

Rachel remembered exploring Quinn's bedroom six years ago, and then hearing Quinn's voice for the first time, having vegan macaroni and watching _Funny Girl_ and _Paranormal Activity_, and then sharing the same bed and ignoring how ridiculous that was for two people who were essentially strangers.

Quinn shrugged easily and smiled at Tom. "I met a girl six years ago. She makes it better."

Rachel pressed her lips together. She could feel Quinn's eyes on her, but she refused to look because she'd just overflow again.

"She's not looking at me right now, but she's normally very loud." Quinn continued conversationally, smile in her voice.

Tom just sat back in his chair, grinning indulgently. Rachel figured she and Quinn had to be his favorite clients. _Friends_, by now. They were probably the couple he bragged about to his other patients.

"Look, her ears are turning red. That means she loves me." Quinn stated proudly.

And Rachel finally twisted in her seat and met her wife's smiling gaze, and Quinn leaned all the way over both armrests to kiss her.

She tasted like chocolate ice cream and smelled like gummy bears.

~ooooooooooooo~

Rachel draped herself over Quinn's body and pressed sloppy kisses to her cheeks until her eyes fluttered open.

"Mmm." Quinn chuckled thickly. "You're crushing me, little bear." She wrapped her arms around Rachel and held her in place.

Rachel tapped her cheeks impatiently. "It's three weeks, baby." she whispered loudly.

Quinn stared up at her, and Rachel watched a slow smile play across her face. "It _has_ been three weeks."

"How do you feel?" Rachel questioned, rolling to the side so that Quinn could sit up. "Do you _feel_ pregnant? When's your period due?"

Quinn scrunched up her nose and gave Rachel a look.

Rachel raised her eyebrows. This was important information.

"A few days ago." Quinn conceded, trying to push her hair out of her face.

Rachel tilted forward and ran her hands through it a few times until it fell where it was supposed to. Quinn smiled and leaned in, laughing when Rachel patted her head like a puppy.

"Do you-are you ready to take a test _now_?" Rachel asked, bouncing her knees nervously.

Quinn stretched and watched her for a second, eyes shiny and cheeks warm from sleep. "Sure, if you relax, sweetheart."

Rachel tried to hold still.

Quinn narrowed her eyes. "Are you okay?"

She probably looked apoplectic. Crazy eyes. Rachel tried to soften her features to come off as less insane, and Jelly landed on her pillow, plodding across it so that Rachel could pet her.

"I didn't sleep much last night." Rachel admitted, in her nervous, I've-just-eaten-a-cup-of-sugar-and-may-burst-into-song-at-any-moment voice.

Quinn untangled her legs from the duvet and scooted forward to wrap an arm around Rachel's waist. "Why not?" she asked, squeezing tightly.

Rachel frowned. Her toes were wiggling and she couldn't seem to stop them. "I have a lot of-I just-we're in this together, but there are so many things to think about, that-"

"Like what?" Quinn interrupted, tugging Rachel's ear to cut her off.

"It doesn't-"

Quinn shook her head, and Rachel sighed. "Okay, like-I don't know-would we raise the baby to be Jewish or Christian, or-"

"Rachel." Quinn said calmly, tapping Rachel's lips. Rachel's heart was pounding away, and her face was flushed, and Quinn waited until she had her attention. "We'll educate them about both, and we'll celebrate both." She offered slowly, reasonably. "It's the same God, and it's all love, so…"

Rachel focused on those hazel eyes. She processed Quinn's words, and then nodded, and her toes slowed down. "Okay, well, what about their diet? You eat such awful-"

Quinn snorted. She unwrapped her arm from Rachel's waist and grabbed her ears instead. "We really shouldn't pass on your vegan diet to our children, but we won't be feeding them crap either."

Rachel kept nodding. "As much-as much natural stuff as possible?"

"Yes, baby. Plus occasional cookies and pizza." Quinn agreed, smiling. "This is fun. Give me another one."

Rachel dropped her gaze to her lap. "What about-I know I won't be technically blood-related to our baby, but do you-"

Quinn's grin vanished. "_No_. Stop." she interrupted sharply. She pulled on Rachel's ears until she had her attention again. "Rachel, you are my _wife_." She stated quietly, but firmly. "You were the one in bed with me three weeks ago, and as soon as we know this baby exists, you are one of two people who will love it more than anything else in the world. You'll see it take its first breath, and you'll be there for every step of its life."

Rachel stopped fidgeting. Quinn's voice was soothing and her eyes were calm, and Rachel liked the things she was saying.

"This is _your_ baby, Rachel. Our baby." Quinn said softly, lips quirking up. "And this baby will fall in love with you before it's even born, because it's impossible not to."

Rachel pressed her lips together. Quinn finally let go of her ears and held Rachel's hands instead.

"We don't-we don't even know if there _is_ a baby yet." Rachel said with a small smile.

Quinn kissed both of her hands and started to slide off the bed. "Let's find out."

They had two pregnancy tests, and Rachel pulled them out of the boxes in the bathroom while Quinn sat on the edge of the tub in sleep shorts and wooly socks and a long-sleeve NYU t-shirt, watching her carefully.

"Do you-should I…" Rachel gestured towards the bathroom door and Quinn shook her head immediately.

"You're not going anywhere, Rachel bear." She said with a smile, reaching for the tests.

Rachel took a deep breath and handed them over, and then sat up on the sink counter while Quinn did her business. Anticipation had hit last night, and it had worked her up until she couldn't take much more.

"Three minutes." Quinn remarked, striding over to the sink and setting down the tests to wash her hands.

Rachel tugged on her shirt when she was finished and Quinn moved to stand between her legs.

"I love you." Rachel murmured, wrapping her arms around her wife, and then locking her in place with her legs.

Quinn smiled and rested her chin on Rachel's head and held her tightly. "Love you too, baby. So much."

Rachel didn't let Quinn move-not that Quinn seemed like she _wanted_ to move-for three minutes. And then she released her hold, and Quinn kissed her head and held her hand and gestured at the tests.

"You can look." Rachel whispered. Her heart could not take that right now.

Quinn nodded.

She took both tests, took a deep breath, and flipped them over, and Rachel watched her face, figuring this is what it felt like to be on the precipice of cardiac arrest.

A smile split Quinn's face, and it turned small and genuine as she looked at Rachel, and Rachel frantically searched her bright eyes.

"Rachel, we're having a baby." Quinn whispered.

And Rachel was crying before she knew what was happening, and laughing because Quinn wrapped her in her arms and spun her around the bathroom, until someone's shin knocked into the cabinet and Quinn's arms gave out and a dog came bounding inside.

Rachel thought of the polar bear proposal and butterfly wedding, and it was truly the greatest day.


	20. Chapter 20

AN: I'm heading to California for a bit, but I'll try to update as soon as possible!

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 20: Nonsense Now and Then**

With a baby on the way, Rachel took it upon herself to learn how to cook. She'd done this many times before in her life, and then given it up each time because she always got so bored being stuck in the kitchen with vegetables she couldn't name and sauces that looked like water when they were supposed to look like gravy.

It was like when she'd go off on a painting kick, and she'd buy several canvases and little tubes of oil and watercolor paints, and set out all her brushes in the dining room, only to abandon that project halfway through when something shiny caught her interest. Like dancing with her dog or a new show on television.

Or learning how to cook.

Rachel could rarely sit still. She had to break free.

But for Quinn, who'd have chocolate pancakes for breakfast and macaroni and cookies for dinner every day if she could, Rachel would make an exception. Their baby would not appreciate Quinn's diet.

So Rachel stood at the counter, peeling mushrooms and preparing peas, one of the most nutritious leguminous vegetables, apparently, and one that Quinn actually _liked_, while her friends sat at the breakfast bar with piles of wedding magazines and Quinn slept in the bedroom.

"Can I go wake her up?" Brittany pleaded. "I need to give her a hug. She's _pregnant_!"

Rachel smiled. "That's exactly why we need to let her sleep."

She knew Quinn would be up and out of that bedroom as soon as she could smell the food. She'd probably be disappointed once she saw what the food _was_, but she'd be awake.

"I like where you guys got married." Blaine remarked, gesturing at Rachel, nose pressed into a magazine. "It was pretty, but Kurt's scared of butterflies, so-"

"I'm not scared of butterflies!" Kurt interjected, whirling around from the stove and flinging rice across the kitchen.

"You know, if an animal eats that, it will inflate inside their stomach and kill them, because-"

"Britt, stop." Santana requested.

Kurt crouched down to sweep up the rice. "I do not like _insects_ in general. I don't need them swarming me on my wedding day, thank you very much."

Rachel gazed dubiously down at a saucepan, wondering how soggy her mixture of vegetables was supposed to look and if Quinn would notice if she added a cup of diced onions. She probably would, but she'd eat it anyway because Rachel had spent time on it.

Rachel laughed to herself picturing Quinn's disgusted onion face.

"You should give them to Benjamin." Brittany suggested, gesturing to the onions. "He's the only one who doesn't get something cool for dinner."

"He's a rabbit."

"You're alienating him." Brittany stated sagely.

Rachel stared at her.

"I hardly think we'd be swarmed by locusts if we had an outdoor wedding." Blaine drawled, carrying on a conversation by himself.

Santana held up a hand. "You need to move that shit inside. I'm not standing out in the sun for another three hours like I did for these assholes."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "You were sitting in the shade for about thirty minutes, Santana."

Her vegetables really shouldn't look so soggy. Rachel hoped that Kurt was doing alright with the rice so that the risotto would at least be edible. Kurt was staring down at his saucepan with the same expression Rachel wore when she looked at hers.

They just were not cooks.

"Is it supposed to turn brown?" he asked, stirring absently.

"We can get married inside if that will make you more comfortable." Blaine carried on. "But I'd love an outdoor reception in the park, with canvas tents because Santana's allergic to the sun."

Rachel watched Cornelius lick up several grains of rice, hoping that what Brittany said about it expanding in his stomach was an exaggeration. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned to find Quinn shuffling towards the kitchen from the hallway.

"There she is!" Brittany proclaimed, launching out of her seat and rushing to give Quinn a hug.

Quinn looked confused and sleepy in her sweats, and she staggered into the wall a bit under Brittany's weight.

"Careful." Santana chided. "She's a vessel."

Rachel pulled a face at _that_ description, and Santana shrugged.

Brittany bent over to kiss Quinn's flat stomach, and then led Quinn over to the kitchen. Quinn went where she was pushed, not fully awake enough to guide herself. She blinked against the light, and Rachel knew the _exact_ moment she caught a whiff of the onions because of her scrunched up nose.

Rachel chuckled softly and walked up to her and rested her hands on Quinn's hips. "Don't worry, I'm not adding them, baby."

Quinn blinked.

"Are you awake?" Rachel asked with a smile, pushing blonde hair out of her wife's face and then tapping her lips to get some kind of reaction. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were glassy with sleep.

Quinn pulled Rachel into a hug and Kurt awwed.

"God, are you conscious?" Santana stared at Quinn. "How long were you asleep, preggo? A year?"

Blaine grinned. "She was hibernating."

Quinn pulled back, smiling wryly and pawing at her eyes to wake herself up. "How long _was_ I sleeping?" she quietly asked Rachel.

Rachel watched her fondly. "A few hours. But it's okay, you need rest."

"Did I-I was sleeping with Cloud?" Quinn checked, staring down at the white fur on her shirt in confusion. She tried to pluck it off, but was too sleep-disoriented, so Kurt stepped up to help her.

"Yeah, bear." Rachel replied. She focused back on her risotto, ready to drain the rice and mix everything together. Or destroy everything that she'd spent hours preparing.

"Quinn, we need help." Blaine declared, shoving his chair right up next to Quinn's.

Quinn took a sip of water and tied her hair back as best she could, and then focused her attention on him. Rachel added rice and vegetable stock to her sautéed mixture, pleasantly surprised when nothing burst into flames.

"Kurt would like to get married indoors, away from the insects," Blaine explained, "but I'd really prefer an outdoor wedding like yours."

Quinn looked up and caught Rachel's eye. "You can't beat my wedding, Blaine." She stated softly.

Blaine laughed like she was joking.

"Maybe an arboretum." Quinn suggested, looking back at him. "It would be like having the outside inside. Enclosed, but only by glass, so it would be bright and floral."

Santana snorted. "Kurt, they want you to get married in a greenhouse."

Rachel's risotto started smoking, and she hurried to turn down the heat.

"We are not getting married in a greenhouse." Kurt declared, rolling his eyes as he set the table.

"An arboretum is a tree garden." Quinn protested quietly. "It's for woody plants, and it doesn't even have to be indoors. It's not a greenhouse."

"You guys should get married in a tree house." Brittany suggested.

Rachel's rice had turned opaque, so she took her concoction off the stove to get it ready to serve. It looked creamy, if not too thick, like yogurt, and she bobbed her head side to side, pleased with the final product.

Now she'd just have to do this every day for another eight months.

Everybody moved to the dining table, and Rachel pulled out the wine and water and Sunny Delight, and Quinn stuck a pie in the oven for dessert, and then intercepted Rachel on her way back to the table.

"I told you you're as messy as I am." She said with a smile, wiping at some kind of sauce on Rachel's shirt.

Rachel frowned down at herself.

"Dinner looks delicious." Quinn continued. "Thank you for making it, baby."

Rachel kept her eyes on the stain. She didn't even know what that _was_. It was black, like oil, and it wasn't coming off as Quinn wiped at it. Maybe it was something Rachel had accidentally created.

She was just that talented.

"Are you still tired?" she asked Quinn, hoping the stain wasn't toxic and batting her wife's hands away.

Quinn shook her head, and all of her hair fell into her eyes again. Rachel pushed it back and tugged out the useless hair tie. She leaned up to kiss Quinn's mouth, and Quinn hummed into it, and then Rachel bent over and quickly kissed Quinn's belly, and Quinn melted and pulled her into another hug.

"If I get married in the Amazon, one of you will get swallowed by an anaconda." Kurt stated matter-of-factly right as Rachel and Quinn joined the table.

And he was absolutely right.

Rachel served her risotto and listened to her friends argue and laugh, and Quinn poked her thigh occasionally and smiled at her and offered her some Sunny Delight, and Rachel was so glad that this is where her baby would grow up.

~ooooooooooooo~

Three days later, on a lazy Sunday morning, Quinn and Rachel sat on the couch in their pajamas with blueberry waffles and a tofu scramble, respectively, watching _On the Town_ on TMC. Rachel hummed along with Frank Sinatra, and she'd inhaled half her scramble before she realized that Quinn was hardly eating.

Quinn was actually gazing forlornly down at her waffles and running a hand slowly along Cloud's back.

"Are you okay, bear?" Rachel asked, scooting closer.

Quinn glanced at her, lips pulled into a pout. "I don't feel very well."

"Are you nauseous? Do you need the bucket?"

Rachel set her plate on the coffee table and sat up straight, ready to run for whatever her wife needed. Quinn looked longingly down at her blueberry waffles and prodded them with a fork, shaking her head.

Rachel was skeptical. "Are you-"

Quinn was off the couch and halfway across the living room before Rachel could finish her sentence. Rachel glanced at Cloud, who was wagging his tail happily like nothing unusual had happened, and then she put the waffles on the counter so that Barnaby couldn't finish them off and hurried after her wife.

Quinn was hunched over the toilet, rubbing her elbow and retching, and Rachel tripped over the bathroom rug to reach her, quickly gathering her hair and patting it all down before tying it back. And then she rubbed Quinn's back and stared hard at the fish on the shower curtain to keep _herself_ from vomiting.

She'd caught a glimpse of blueberries in the toilet, and more of that would just send her over the edge.

"It's okay, baby, just let it all out." Rachel soothed.

The stingray was smiling, she noted.

Quinn whined and rubbed at her elbow, and Rachel caught the movement right as Quinn retched again.

"Did you hurt yourself?" Rachel murmured, dragging her eyes from the grinning marine animals to examine Quinn's arm.

Quinn coughed and nodded. "I-I hit it on the bathtub." She answered huskily. "It's fine."

She shifted to stand up, and Rachel steadied her and made her lean against the counter while she wet a cloth to dab on Quinn's flushed cheeks and forehead.

"Feel better?" she asked softly.

Quinn nodded and smiled slightly. "I can finish my waffles now."

Rachel scrunched up her nose.

"It's passed." Quinn assured, voice growing stronger. "It just needed to…come out. Or up."

Rachel shook her head before Quinn could search for different ways to phrase that. Quinn brushed her teeth while Rachel poked at her slightly bruised elbow, and they returned to the couch with Cloud and reheated waffles.

Quinn only managed a few bites before she stopped eating again.

"Bear, honey, maybe you should leave the waffles for another time." Rachel suggested, trying not to smile because Quinn looked stricken, and Quinn shoved the plate away and leaned backwards into the cushions.

Rachel leaned over and kissed her warm, frowning forehead, and then got up for a blanket, peanut butter crackers, and paper. She turned the volume up on Gene Autry and retrieved Pooh from the bedroom, and then settled onto the couch next to Quinn, who cuddled up to her side and breathed deeply.

"I think your smell makes it better." Quinn mumbled.

Rachel chuckled lightly at that, and uncapped a marker to work on her paper.

"Like…clean linen."

"That's the laundry, bear." Rachel informed with a laugh.

Quinn tickled Rachel's ribs. "It settles my stomach. Make sure you wear clean clothes all the time."

"Because that's such a problem for me." Rachel hummed sarcastically.

"You're a slob, little bear."

Rachel would've tickled her or poked her or ruffled her hair or _something_, but Quinn's voice was thick and tired, and Rachel really did not want to be vomited on, so she just continued drawing her picture until Quinn flicked at the paper with a raised eyebrow.

Rachel smiled and held it out for her to see. "I drew us as hippos." She explained, because it was probably hard to tell.

Quinn smiled widely and laughed, and Rachel patted herself on the back for achieving her goal. Quinn reached out for the green marker, and then awkwardly pressed it to the rudimentary drawing while Rachel held the paper.

"I'm giving your hippo a microphone, and mine a stethoscope." She informed, biting her lip, eyes sparkling.

Rachel nodded in agreement.

Quinn finished, and then held out the marker for Rachel, and Rachel took it while Quinn settled back into her side, one arm thrown over her waist.

"Now draw Barnaby, please." Quinn requested, smiling softly.

Rachel tilted and kissed her hair and complied, and Quinn drew Barnaby a polka-dot bow tie, and Rachel figured that if every bout of morning sickness was like this, it wouldn't be so bad.

~ooooooooooooo~

Rachel warily eyed the poster on the wall of the examination room, wondering which end was up and if it was even _human_, before coming to the conclusion that the doctor was trying to scare people. It was just so graphic. Rachel did not see why it was necessary to blow up a woman's private parts so that they were four times the size of her head.

But she couldn't stop staring at the baby in the poster.

"So we put a cast on his leg, and isolated him from the other monkeys because they'd just help to tear it off, and-"

Quinn cut herself off, gazing at Rachel's back, probably having realized that her wife wasn't hearing anything she was saying. She narrowed her eyes.

Rachel tilted her head to see if that would give the baby in the picture some kind of shape. A top and a bottom. She jumped and whirled around when she heard Quinn's hand hit the arm of the chair she was sitting in.

"Hey. Pay attention to me, Rachel." Quinn requested loudly, holding an arm out like she was beckoning Rachel closer.

Rachel rushed forward, glad for the distraction from the poster. She felt dizzy, like she'd been staring at an optical illusion for the past ten minutes instead of a giant cross-section of a woman's private area.

"Sorry, bear." She apologized quickly, taking Quinn's hand. "What were you saying?"

Quinn watched her suspiciously for a second, and Rachel raised an eyebrow to let her know that she was totally focused.

Quinn's lips twitched. "I wanted to know how rehearsals were this morning."

Rachel hummed and smiled to herself. She had at least been present enough to know that Quinn hadn't been talking about rehearsals. She sat lightly on the arm of Quinn's chair, and Quinn tapped her fingers along Rachel's thigh.

"I think you were talking about monkeys, not about my rehearsals." Rachel drawled, eyebrow raised.

Quinn shrugged, and Rachel rested a hand on top of her fluffy blonde hair. "You seemed bored with that."

"I was distracted by that poster, which has only served to confuse me." Rachel explained.

Quinn chuckled, knocking her head back against the wall to look at Rachel. "You need a simpler diagram, baby. I could draw you one if you'd like?"

"Shut up." Rachel mumbled, and then pressed her lips together to suppress her smile. She kept her hand on Quinn's head, running through her soft hair.

"Roger, the snow monkey, has a cast on now, and we isolated him from the rest of the troop so that they wouldn't help him remove it, and because getting in the hot tub right now would be detrimental to his health." Quinn explained. She tapped her fingers along the seam of Rachel's jeans.

"I'm sure he'd love to get in the hot tub, though, because he's injured. Did you-did you know snow monkeys are the northernmost primates next to humans?"

Rachel smiled as Quinn's leg started bouncing. "I thought you didn't like monkeys?"

Quinn hummed vaguely. "Not particularly."

Rachel pictured herself sharing a hot tub with a gang of monkeys. She'd probably have to pretend to be one of them to keep from getting attacked, not that she was knowledgeable _at all_ about monkey troop etiquette. Were they violent towards strangers? She'd definitely seen a baboon attack on Animal Planet once.

And she was an actor, a _star_, so she could pull off "monkey" if it was absolutely necessary.

Quinn pressed her head against Rachel's side and nuzzled into her t-shirt. "You're still not listening." She mumbled, though Rachel could hear the smile in her voice.

Rachel ruffled her hair. "I was thinking about monkeys."

And _becoming_ one.

"Tell me about your day." Quinn instructed, muffled against Rachel's side.

Rachel opened her mouth to reply when the doctor finally came into the room. She greeted Rachel and Quinn with a smile, and Quinn stood up to get in the chair, dragging Rachel along behind her.

"How are you feeling this afternoon, Quinn?" The doctor asked brightly.

Quinn's eyes were fixed on her stethoscope. "Very well, thank you." She murmured.

Rachel squeezed her hand and stood next to Quinn's head, trying to stay out of the way of the ultrasound machine. The doctor pulled up Quinn's shirt, and Quinn's toes wiggled nervously.

"What can we expect to see?" Rachel asked, looking for something for Quinn to focus on other than the cold gel and foreign hands. She watched her wife squirm in the chair and tapped her cheek lightly.

"You're okay." Rachel mouthed, and Quinn stilled.

The doctor glanced at them while she moved the probe around. "Well, at eight weeks, the baby would be about the size of a kidney bean." She smiled, probably because Rachel and Quinn were so transfixed. "We won't know the sex, but it has fingers and toes."

Rachel glanced reflexively down at her own fingers twined with Quinn's.

"So it has legs?" Quinn questioned, and Rachel snorted because it sounded so odd.

Quinn flushed right up to her ears, but the doctor nodded easily.

"But it-am I-am I supposed to feel it moving?" Quinn asked quietly, staring at the gel on her still-flat stomach. "If it…has legs."

Rachel turned into mush inside, and regretted snorting because Quinn was _bright_ red, and she bent over to kiss her wife's forehead in apology, and then waited to hear the answer because it was actually a good question.

"I mean, I'm a doctor, an animal doctor, and I don't-I don't mean to sound like an idiot-"

"You probably won't feel any movement from the baby until about sixteen weeks." The doctor cut Quinn off, smiling reassuringly. "The legs are far from being developed enough and large enough for you to feel anything."

Quinn nodded, and then turned to look at the screen with Rachel when the doctor pointed. "This is your baby."

Rachel narrowed her eyes at the tiny dark splotch. Quinn tilted her head like Rachel had been doing with the nearly obscene poster earlier.

The doctor laughed at their expressions. "It's not much right now, but everything's normal, and we should be able to determine the sex at about eighteen weeks."

"I don't…" Rachel felt tears burning her eyes, mostly from staring unblinkingly at the screen for several minutes. "I don't see it."

Quinn looked up at her, and then lifted her hand and kissed it. "Don't cry, baby."

"I'm not." Rachel stated honestly, blinking to relieve the burn. "Is it-you're sure it has arms already?"

Quinn laughed this time, and Rachel just shook it off because this was their baby and it was their right to turn into worried fools in the doctor's office.

"Very, _very_ small." The doctor replied, freezing the screen and wiping the gel off Quinn's stomach. "Only developmentally large enough to say that they are present."

Rachel smiled at the dark little blob. "I believe you." She murmured.

"It's our baby." Quinn whispered, pulling Rachel down so that she could say it in her ear.

Rachel nodded and pressed her nose against Quinn's hair, and the moment finally caught up with her and she was barely able to keep herself from crying.

They had their first picture of their little baby. She'd definitely have to print off about twenty copies to hand out to all their friends, and then put one in a scrapbook and one on the fridge, and maybe frame one for the side of the bed.

"Rachel." Quinn murmured, and Rachel pulled away slightly to catch her eye. She wondered if Quinn was about to be sick and if she could lunge for the trash can before it happened.

Quinn shook her head and wrapped her arms around Rachel's neck, awkwardly because she was still lying down, but Rachel hugged her tightly and managed not to pull them both onto the floor.

"I just have a few questions for you two." The doctor interrupted, smiling as they pulled apart. Rachel helped Quinn sit up and then settled next to her on the chair.

"So, Quinn, have you been experiencing any nausea? Any moodiness? Cravings, spotting, or sensitive breasts?"

Quinn glanced at Rachel. "I-no to all of that except nausea."

Rachel scrunched up her nose. "Yes. Lots of morning sickness. You can put an extra big check by nausea."

Make it bold, make the font larger, give it ten checks and its own sheet of paper because nausea was _definitely _present.

The doctor smiled sympathetically. "Well, hopefully that will fade after your first trimester."

Quinn sighed slightly and puffed out her cheeks.

"We'll give you some prenatal supplements and schedule your next appointment, and you can call us with any concerns, but everything's looking good right now. The risk of miscarriage drops every day."

Rachel smiled and leaned into Quinn's side, and Quinn wrapped an arm around her waist. When the doctor returned with the bag of supplements, Rachel pulled each one out and asked what they were for and if they were necessary and if there was absolutely _anything_ else she and Quinn could do for the health of their baby.

And then she asked which side was up in the poster on the wall, and Quinn rolled her eyes, but the doctor answered her questions easily and even offered to draw a simpler diagram.

"That won't be necessary, thank you." Rachel stated over Quinn's soft laughter.

They left the building with a picture of their baby, and their baby was perfect.

~ooooooooooo~

Opening night of _Hello, Dolly!_ was halfway through October, and Rachel flitted around her dressing room, drinking tea and making funny noises, just to be sure that she could still make them and to know that her vocal cords were not failing her.

She checked her phone about six times in a minute, and then chewed on two mints, realized she liked the taste, and dropped more mints into her tea. She was slowly losing her mind because Quinn hadn't shown up and she was due on stage in twenty-four minutes.

Rachel was looking for something else to drop in her drink, maybe Starburst or Skittles or _butter_, when her dressing room door swung open.

Quinn hurried inside in a dark coat and windswept hair, cheeks flushed from the chilly weather.

"Hey, babe!" she greeted breathlessly, and Rachel breathed a sigh of relief and watched Quinn set her brown bag on the dresser.

"_Quinn_." Rachel stated, bouncing on her heels nervously. "I was worried, bear."

Quinn shuffled over to give her a kiss, and Rachel squirmed at the cold fingers on her neck. She silently handed Quinn her hot tea to hold before she could add any more foreign objects to it. Quinn held the cup with one hand and let Rachel rub the other between her hands to warm it up.

"Sorry, baby." Quinn murmured, gesturing at the bag on the dresser. "I got you flowers after work. And jelly beans and chocolates. And a card. I think I may have gone overboard."

Quinn pulled a face and Rachel laughed.

"I thought you'd fallen in the tiger pen." Rachel admitted. She'd gone a little overboard with potential scenarios as well.

Quinn smiled softly at her. "I'm being careful."

Rachel nodded and glanced at the time, trying to smile but heaving an anxious sigh instead. Quinn held the tea out for her and she took three large gulps, and then choked on a mint that lodged itself in her throat. It came up easily when Quinn thumped her back, and Rachel spit it back into the tea and set that whole mess aside.

She hadn't even been this nervous for _Funny Girl._

Quinn watched her carefully and then backed her up to sit on the couch and crouched down in front of her, hands on Rachel's knees.

"You seem nervous." Quinn observed, lips quirked.

Rachel huffed exasperatedly and rolled her eyes, but Quinn squeezed her knees and scooted closer.

"This is where you belong, Rachel Berry. You know that right?" Quinn raised an eyebrow like it was a legitimate question.

Rachel stared at her.

"They love you." Quinn assured earnestly. "Everybody out there does. All this, it's all for you, baby. They are welcoming you back out there with open arms, and I'll be here with hugs and kisses when you walk off."

Rachel still didn't say anything, but she nodded along absently.

Quinn puffed out her cheeks and tapped her fingers along Rachel's knees. "We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams."

Rachel focused on Quinn's honest hazel eyes. "What?"

"I used to pretend I was Charlie and I had a chocolate factory." Quinn said simply. "Roald Dahl? I'd have an imaginary Willy Wonka and my bath would be the river of chocolate, and my stuffed animals would be Oompa Loompas, and I told myself I'd own a chocolate factory someday."

Rachel had to smile, gaze fixed on Quinn's. "Why are you telling me this, bear?"

Quinn scrunched up her nose. "I don't know. It's nonsense, right?"

It most definitely was, and Rachel was lost, but entranced.

"I found out that chocolate factories don't actually have rivers of chocolate and rooms made of candy, and it was disappointing." Quinn stated sagely, leaning against Rachel's shins. "But I think-I don't-"

Quinn shook her head out, and Rachel bounced her knees with Quinn's hands on them while she waited for her wife to get her thoughts straight.

"You-you live in imagination." Quinn said slowly, frowning like she was getting it all wrong. "I know you say_ I_ do, but you act out stories every day, and some of it's nonsense, but you never do anything by halves, right?"

Rachel nodded, having finally jumped back on Quinn's train of thought.

Quinn grinned up at her. "So…go be outrageous, lovely bear. Think of our chocolate factory and our baby, and make sure everything you do is so completely crazy that it's unbelievable."

Rachel sighed softly, trying not to smile too wide. "You're a weird one." She murmured.

Quinn's smile grew. "I'm right and you're wrong, I'm big and you're small, and there's nothing you can do about it."

Rachel tilted forward to kiss her wife before she could come up with anything else. Anything else that made absolutely no sense, but made Rachel's day infinitely better. She didn't understand it, but she thought of Quinn and their baby and a chocolate factory, and the love waiting for her out on that stage, and she was ready.

Quinn turned on some music, and then danced around the dressing room singing "Love is a Battlefield," just to keep Rachel smiling. She stopped when she hit herself in the mouth with the TV remote she was using as a microphone, and Rachel fed her Starbursts and then sent her out to the audience.

Front row, center, of course.

And Rachel hugged her Barnaby and Cornelius backstage, and then strode out for "Call on Dolly," and her voice was smooth and jaunty and gorgeous because of the smiles in the audience. She caught Quinn's eye on a turn, and it was exactly where she belonged.


	21. Chapter 21

AN: I can't properly focus on this story out here, but hopefully this tides you all over! I'm glad you guys are sticking with this.

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 21: And We'll All Float on Okay**

Technology had never been Rachel's forte. She used her laptop for only the most basic things, like Googling illnesses and sending e-mails and looking up vintage Barbra videos for comparison. The only appliance she was completely comfortable with using was the toaster, and she'd barely been able to change the alarm settings on her phone so that she didn't wake up to an air raid siren, terrified and under the impression that she was being bombed.

Now, she woke up every morning to her own version of "Ding Dong! The Witch is Dead." The best version, of course, and a wonderfully optimistic way to start her day.

Rachel was not much better with digital cameras, but she'd purchased one because she needed to start documenting the story of her unborn child. Photographs would be important for any autobiographical endeavors later in life.

And Quinn was just so shy around the camera, Rachel had to record it for posterity.

So she sat at the breakfast bar, pressing buttons on her shiny new Olympus, frowning and wondering why the picture on the screen had suddenly shrunk so small. She could hear Quinn chattering away in the living room, Skyping with Sam and Penguin before she left for the zoo.

Rachel squinted down at the instructions. Soon she'd have to admit to herself that she needed to start wearing reading glasses.

"I don't know what she's doing." Quinn's voice carried, and Rachel could hear her smile. "I think she's pretending she knows how to use our new camera right now."

Rachel narrowed her eyes at Quinn's back, and Quinn turned around and waved at her.

"I know what I'm doing." Rachel countered loudly, glaring at her wife.

And _lying_.

She heard Sam laugh through the computer.

Quinn turned back to the screen. "Remember when she messed up the cable on your TV and you had to call Cox to come and fix it?"

Rachel looked for something to throw.

"Oh yeah!" Sam laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

Rachel huffed and settled on the dish towel, which she hurled at the back of Quinn's head. Sam had seven thousand buttons on his remote control, and it was not her fault that she was not capable of understanding what they all did.

Quinn's light laughter at being hit with the towel cut off abruptly, and Rachel looked up to see her wife shoot off the couch and down the hallway towards the bedroom, with Barnaby bounding gleefully after her. Rachel _almost_ thought "serves you right," but squashed that down because she never wanted Quinn to suffer even the smallest amount.

Even when Rachel was being mocked.

She waited a few seconds before getting up and walking into the living room.

"Is she okay?" Sam called out, struggling to keep Penguin from taking over the camera. He seemed to be sitting in some kind of prison cell, but Rachel figured it was an undecorated bathroom or closet. She didn't ask why Sam was Skyping in the bathroom.

Or why his bathroom looked like jail.

She leaned over the back of the couch and nodded so that Sam could see. "This happens fairly frequently." She informed, sadly, because Quinn was getting tired out.

Sam grimaced.

Rachel glanced towards the hallway. "Will you be here for the wedding?" She asked, calculating how much time she had and smiling slightly when Cornelius climbed up in front of her to block her view of the screen.

Sam grinned at the dog. "Yes, I will, Seal." He joked. "I'll see you in three months, dude."

Rachel clapped her hands together excitedly. "Quinn can't wait to see you."

Sam nodded bashfully.

"No, really," Rachel pushed, "she tells everyone we know about our friend who swims with Shamu. She's so proud of you."

"She just loves Shamu." Sam returned, blushing to his ears.

Rachel smiled. "That too."

"Well…Go-go help her." Sam instructed after a moment. He waved his hand off-screen like Rachel needed to hurry. Rachel nodded knowingly and patted Cornelius's head, and left him to carry the conversation.

"Oh, hey, did you fix it?" Sam's disembodied voice called out after her.

Rachel could hear the smile, and she rolled her eyes and didn't bother answering, because _no_, she hadn't fixed it and she'd be stuck with thumbnail images for the rest of her life.

Quinn sat on the floor in the bathroom with her head in her hands, and Rachel crouched down and settled a warm hand on her back. She didn't dare look at the toilet. Quinn leaned into her until Rachel had to sit on the floor to keep from toppling sideways.

"Better, baby?" she asked quietly.

Quinn hummed, and then sighed tiredly.

"Let me grab the camera." Rachel said softly, watching her. "We can document this for future generations."

Quinn's lips quirked as she shook her head.

Rachel gasped quietly, nose pressed against Quinn's ear. "What, baby? You don't think that's a good idea?"

"Rachel." Quinn laughed shortly.

Rachel reached a cool hand up and palmed one of Quinn's flushed cheeks. "We could put the pictures in your book. And my memoirs."

"You're ridiculous."

Rachel smiled. "You were making fun of me, bear."

Quinn puffed out her cheeks and tipped her head backwards until it knocked against the wall. Rachel squeezed her thigh.

"No, baby. I was elaborating on one of the reasons I love you." Quinn drawled.

Rachel snorted, which made Quinn laugh.

"You're like a tornado." Quinn proclaimed, smiling genuinely. "Flipping everything over as you pass right by."

An unstoppable force of technological ignorance.

"Sure, sometimes we have to call the cable company because of you, but you can sing to the moon and back." Quinn said sweetly, and then used Rachel's shoulder as leverage to stand up. Rachel groaned exaggeratedly under the weight.

"I never stood a chance." Quinn finished.

She started brushing her teeth, and caught Rachel's eye in the mirror, and Rachel smiled and stood behind her and kissed her shoulder before re-pinning Quinn's messy blonde hair.

And then Rachel returned to the living room to find that Sam had ended his Skype conversation with Cornelius. She sat back at the breakfast bar and vowed to fix the camera settings before she stood up again.

~ooooooooooo~

Rachel turned off the camera when her knees locked themselves into place. She climbed out of the chair with a headache and a numb foot, and her spine cracked alarmingly loudly, and she walked through the kitchen just to stop herself from hurling the camera against a wall.

And then she turned it back on two minutes later, and the preview images were normal-sized.

Rachel took a breath and nodded to herself, satisfied. She knew exactly what she was doing. Unfortunately, nobody was around for her to show, so she took a picture of Butter and appreciated her own handiwork.

A few nights later, she sat cross-legged on the bed opposite Quinn, clutching the camera and trying to direct her own mini photo-shoot. Quinn wasn't cooperating though, wearing only pajama shorts and a bra because she'd gotten too hot, and trying to get Rachel to kiss her to taste the new toothpaste she bought.

"Just sit still, babe." Rachel instructed, angling the camera. "Look cute."

"But it's orange-flavored. Come here." Quinn puckered her lips, and Rachel rolled her eyes, but couldn't resist giving her a kiss. The toothpaste did taste good.

"Now smile." She ordered.

Quinn scrunched up her nose. "Don't make it pornographic."

"Then put your shirt back on."

"It's too hot."

Rachel rolled her eyes and took a picture. Quinn turned away automatically, flustered and warm and annoyed, and Rachel sighed.

"You know the camera loves you, bear." Rachel stated, staring at her wife. "You're gorgeous."

Quinn's ears flushed red. "Well _I_ don't like _it_." She mumbled.

Rachel's lips twitched. "Take off your pants, baby." She requested, just because she refused to let the subject drop.

Quinn looked bewildered.

Rachel nodded. "Take them off." She urged. "We'll do some nude pictures, and-"

Quinn snorted loudly. "_Rachel_, no."

"Then take some _normal _pictures with me." Rachel pleaded, suppressing her smile and pulling out her puppy dog pout.

Quinn sank slowly back into her pillows and glanced down at her chest and her bare belly. Rachel followed the movement. Quinn was showing now, a slight swell of pale skin, and Rachel leaned forward to press a kiss to her stomach.

"You're too warm." Quinn complained softly.

Rachel pulled back. "Would you like a cool cloth, baby?"

Quinn shook her head.

"A popsicle? Those ones with the gumball eyes?"

Quinn exhaled sharply and shook her head again in frustration. Rachel sort of felt like she was being led into a trap.

"Some water, bear? I could get the fan." Rachel suggested carefully, still holding the camera in one hand.

Quinn just held an arm out and beckoned Rachel closer, and Rachel complied and moved until she was hovering over her wife. Like a mouse dangling over a python. Quinn pulled her down into a kiss, sucking hungrily on her button lip, and Rachel squeaked in surprise.

But she rolled with it, because who was she to deny a pregnant woman?

Her hands went automatically to Quinn's sides, while Quinn's fingers dragged up her back.

"Water with ice would be nice." Quinn mumbled against Rachel's neck, and Rachel frowned because she really didn't know what was happening at the moment.

"Right now?" she checked, tracing the strap of Quinn's bra.

Quinn nodded, eyes bright, but then seized Rachel's wrist when Rachel tried to climb off the bed. "No, not now. Stay here, please."

Rachel nodded slowly. "Honey, are you okay?" she asked softly, brushing the hair off Quinn's sweaty forehead.

Quinn looked confused herself. Exasperated and hot. She pulled Rachel back into a kiss, and then whined when Rachel's body pressed against her boobs. Rachel looked down in alarm, thinking she'd kneed her somewhere unpleasant.

"Am I crushing you?" she whispered, frowning at the absurdity of that question.

"They're really…sensitive." Quinn explained quietly, eyes flicking down to her boobs. A blush crept all the way down her neck to her collarbone.

Rachel palmed one boob experimentally, pulling away immediately when Quinn flinched. She let herself drop down at Quinn's side and pressed her lips to her wife's bare shoulder.

"Sorry, baby." She whispered, and she rested her cool hand lightly on Quinn's stomach.

"This is awful." Quinn muttered.

Rachel almost laughed.

"Do you still want to take a picture?" Quinn asked, voice wavering slightly.

Rachel rubbed her nose against Quinn's jaw. "Do _you_ want to?"

Quinn sighed.

Rachel wondered about panic attacks before realizing that Quinn was probably just hormonal, and she almost pointed that out to Quinn because her wife just seemed so confused, but _that_ couldn't possibly go well.

"I don't think I want my picture taken right now." Quinn mumbled, crossing an arm over her stomach.

Rachel watched the movement, and then propped herself up on an elbow and looked down at Quinn.

"You know you're brilliant, right Quinn?" Rachel asked, eyebrow raised.

Quinn furrowed her brow.

"I don't mean talented or intelligent, even though you're those things as well," Rachel explained quietly. "I mean you're glowing. Shining. Beaming with beauty."

Quinn snorted softly and pressed half her face into the pillow. Rachel ducked to keep eye contact.

"No, I'm serious, bear. Your eyes are brighter than ever." Rachel tapped Quinn's nose as she spoke. "And your cheeks are always a lovely pink now, and your body-Quinn, you're carrying our baby, and everything that comes with that is so incredibly sexy. You have no idea."

Quinn scrunched up her nose. "Not everything." She corrected..

Rachel shrugged and splayed her cool palm across Quinn's abdomen. "You bowl me over." She said with a smile.

Quinn side-eyed her.

"You knock me down every day." Rachel continued, just trying to get her to laugh. "I mean, I see you, and it's like the world stops spinning. Or it starts going backwards."

Quinn smiled reluctantly. "Stop yourself, Rachel."

"It's like walking right over the edge of a cliff. It makes my knees shake. My legs get all wobbly."

Quinn rolled onto her side and gazed at Rachel, amused. Rachel tapped her lips.

"It's like being caught underwater, or out in space. You take my breath away, baby."

Quinn laughed a full belly-laugh, loudly and melodically, and Rachel grinned, triumphant. Quinn rolled over onto her and tickled her sides until Rachel was laughing so hard that no sound came out.

"I love you for that, little bear." Quinn murmured breathlessly, red in the face.

Rachel grabbed the camera and held it above them and took a picture before Quinn realized what was happening. Quinn was flushed and smiling her wide, open-mouthed smile, nose pressed into Rachel's cheek, hair mussed, while Rachel looked up at the camera, happiness shining in her brown eyes, lips pressed together to contain her smile.

Rachel could've stared at it all night, but she had the real thing in front of her.

"Nine weeks down, bear." She whispered.

Quinn nodded, trying to pull off her shorts because she was still too hot. Rachel helped her, and then kissed her stomach and then her lips, and finally let Quinn wrap her up for the night.

~oooooooooooo~

Rachel figured that a pre-natal exercise class would just involve lying on the floor with Quinn and doing some foolish-looking breathing exercises. Or rolling around on giant yoga balls. But, of course, Quinn chose a class that took place in a pool, and Rachel barely managed to convince her to leave the inflatable Shamu behind.

"We should've just done yoga classes, baby. Or Lamaze." Rachel remarked when they were changing into their bathing suits in the locker room.

Quinn threw a sock at her back. "That's boring, little bear."

Rachel tilted backwards into the lockers and watched Quinn tie her bikini top.

"And this is more intensive." Quinn continued. "You said you wanted to work out to look good in your bridesmaid dress."

It was true. But everybody said they wanted to work out until they were actually faced with the challenge of _working out_. Rachel briefly wondered what had happened to her high school elliptical routine.

She'd achieved her dreams and left that behind. Sure, she could barely run a mile now, but she was a Broadway star.

"I think I do enough dancing." Rachel said vaguely.

Quinn smiled at her. "And you always look good."

Rachel sidled up and leaned into Quinn, resting her hands on her stomach, and Quinn tugged on the ends of her dark hair.

"What time do you have to be out of here?" Rachel asked quietly, looking over Quinn's shoulder at the clock on the wall.

Quinn hummed. "Early afternoon? I'm planning a 5k, and the zoo tour for the autism program, and we have a new red panda arriving this evening."

Rachel smiled slightly. "That's exciting."

Quinn rocked back on her heels, and her hands dropped from Rachel's hair to tap against her own thighs. "His name's Bamboo. He's coming from Phillie, and we want-we want to breed him with Maya in the next few months."

Rachel bit her lip. "Just don't-you've got a lot of stuff going on, Quinn-just don't overexert yourself, okay?"

Quinn watched her, eyes glossed over a little bit, and Rachel knew she was probably thinking about pandas.

"I know you're tired." Rachel added, daring Quinn to argue with her.

Quinn twirled the rubber band around her wrist. "I'm-I'm okay. When I don't feel all over the place, like I've fallen into Wonderland or the Twilight Zone, I'm okay."

Rachel raised an eyebrow.

"Did-did you know red pandas were discovered before giant pandas?"

Rachel bit her cheek and watched Quinn's excited eyes. Quinn's fingers danced along her legs.

"And they have-they have twelve rings on their tail." She continued, rocking forward on her toes. "Purely aesthetic, but you can count them the next time I bring you to the zoo."

Oh yeah. Rachel would be sure to do that.

"You know there are-there are people who check the casting calls of Broadway producers, and then go to animal shelters to find pets who fit the roles?"

Wait.

Rachel blinked. Quinn seemed to have switched topics, swimming along with some kind of logic Rachel couldn't see. Rachel focused and waited for her to sort herself out.

"They-they train them, and there are lots-there are rescued-rescue-"

"Bear." Rachel interrupted softly, and tapped Quinn's lips, amused.

Quinn shook her head around. "There are-there are rescue dogs touring with _Annie_ and the _Wizard of Oz_, and a cat in _Alice in Wonderland_."

Rachel was hit with the sudden realization that she could turn all of her pets into Broadway stars. Her eyes widened, and Quinn laughed like she knew exactly where Rachel's head had gone.

"I promise I'm not too tired." Quinn assured.

Cornelius wasn't trainable, so there was no way he could become a star, but Barnaby could dance! Maybe Rachel could take him to an audition. Benjamin was also wildly talented, but there probably wasn't such a huge demand for giant chocolate bunnies on stage.

"_Rachel_." Quinn said with a smile, and tapped Rachel's chin to get her to focus.

Rachel did, and followed Quinn out of the locker room and through the gym to the pool where their class was waiting. There were another three couples, and two pregnant women by themselves, and Quinn slid right into the deep end while Rachel walked slowly down the stairs.

It was an indoor pool, so the chlorine scent was strong and every sound echoed through the building.

It would actually be perfect if Rachel felt the need to break out into song. Which wasn't ever unlikely.

"For our first exercise, everybody grab a kickboard." The instructor called out. She looked about twelve years old, and Rachel wondered what business she had teaching a pre-natal class.

"You're going to hold it in front of you, and then walk forward, so it creates a drag, from one side of the pool to the other. It's a strengthening exercise."

Rachel took the pink kickboard Quinn handed her, and did as she was instructed. Quinn moved quickly, like she was racing the other participants, and Rachel was mildly alarmed that she'd wear herself out. After three laps, Quinn stopped in the middle of the pool and swam along next to Rachel.

"This isn't doing anything." She complained quietly, obviously more eager to play in the water than to finish the exercise.

Rachel kept walking with her kickboard. "I'm sure it's doing _something_." She reasoned.

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Wasting our time?"

"Babe, just keep doing it." Rachel requested with a smile. "In twenty minutes you'll be exhausted, and you'll know it's done something."

"Let's keep it up, Quinn." The instructor said loudly. "I know you're tired. Just one more lap."

Quinn looked over at him with a blank expression. "I'm-I'm not tired, actually." She said quietly. "This is just incredibly boring."

Rachel snorted softly, and Quinn started walking again, ignoring the instructor.

"This was your idea." Rachel reminded her, and Quinn scrunched up her nose. They'd probably be kicked out of this class by the end of the pregnancy.

The next exercise involved repeatedly stepping up and down onto the lowest step in the shallow end of the pool. Quinn grew more annoyed with every inane request the instructors made, until she was doing her stepping with a scowl set firmly on her face.

Rachel squeezed her arm periodically, and her expression would soften for a minute or two.

"I hope they have less asinine activities planned for the next few weeks." Quinn muttered, slowing her pace.

Rachel was doubtful. She wouldn't be surprised if they spent three hours next week floating around on their backs like otters.

Quinn longingly eyed the other side of the pool, where some kids were playing with a water ball and a noodle, fighting over goggles to retrieve some coins from the bottom. Rachel smiled to herself and moved along the side of the pool to get her wife some water.

She was clinging to the edge and sipping from her bottle when one of the instructors, a guy named Paul, appeared at her side, grinning conspiratorially.

Rachel grimaced at the swimmer snot running from his nose.

"So, your girlfriend's a bit off-color, huh?"

Rachel swallowed and slowly re-capped her bottle, narrowing her eyes. "Wife. My _wife_." She corrected shortly.

Paul hummed. "Yeah, she doesn't seem to be enjoying herself."

Rachel glanced over to where Quinn was plodding up and down that one step, annoyed scowl still playing on her lips.

"She doesn't like doing pointless things." Rachel remarked. "And she says what she thinks."

Paul laughed. "I noticed."

Rachel stared at him.

"Just because it's not fun, doesn't mean it's not helping." He continued, stretching his arms casually over the edge of the pool. "We're not running children's swimming lessons."

Rachel's jaw clenched. "We know that."

"Well, she seems pretty miserable."

Rachel started swimming back to Quinn, just so she wouldn't punch this guy in the face. "She just needs something to focus on other than these mindless exercises." She called out behind her, and the guy shrugged and nodded and went to bother one of the husbands who seemed like he didn't know how to swim.

Quinn took the water bottle Rachel handed her and kissed Rachel's cheek in thanks.

"I think I should take a break." Quinn mused quietly, leaning against the side of the pool.

Rachel raised an eyebrow, and Quinn reached up and brushed back the dark hair plastered to her forehead. "Yeah? Is it getting harder?"

Quinn nodded, staring down at the water like she didn't want to admit it. Or searching for coins along the floor.

"You feel okay, though? Your head, your stomach-"

"Yes, Rachel." Quinn smiled wryly. "Your little baby and I are fine."

Rachel watched her suspiciously.

"And that woman said we get to use floats next week." Quinn stated, pointing at one of the other participants. "Apparently it gets more fun. And less idiotic."

Rachel chuckled. "Don't say that, bear."

Quinn sighed helplessly. "I'm so tired."

It wasn't news for Rachel. She'd just been waiting for confirmation.

"I know, baby." She pulled Quinn into a hug, and told her that they'd have a nap together when they got home.

Quinn finished her exercises, which involved clinging to the side of the pool and moving her legs up and down, and Paul told her to pretend like she was a gymnast with super-strength, and to focus on that, and Quinn cheered up considerably.

It was a much more effective class than Rachel's giant yoga ball routine.

~ooooooooooooo~

A couple days later, Rachel pushed tiredly through her front door after an evening show, already peeling off several layers of clothing with her cell phone wedged against her shoulder. She was strangling herself with her scarf while Kurt chattered away.

"So we're going with a blue and white scheme, because it'll probably have snowed by that time, and we can get married in a winter wonderland!"

"Kurt, we'll all freeze if you get married in the snow." Rachel said distractedly, climbing up the stairs with only one boot on.

Kurt huffed. Rachel could practically see his eyes roll. "We won't get married _in_ the snow. We're not Eskimos."

"I'm sure you can find a way to have your reception outside without subjecting your guests to the elements." Rachel mused, kicking off her other boot and dropping her bag, coat, cardigan, scarf, gloves, and hat into a heap on the couch.

An igloo wedding was intriguing, though.

"Right." Kurt agreed. "I was thinking some kind of clear plastic or glass dome to go over the reception area, but Blaine tells me that's too extravagant.

Rachel scoffed. That seemed perfectly reasonable.

"We also need to pick a cake flavor." Kurt continued. "Do you think Quinn would like to come with me to a tasting next week?"

Rachel smiled. It wasn't even a question. "She would _love_ that."

Kurt chuckled. "Okay. I have to go. Blaine's fixing a doorknob and he's accidentally locked himself in the basement with Brittany's duck."

Just another day with Rachel's friends. She nodded and said goodbye, and then hung up while greeting Barnaby and Cornelius, who both smelled like blueberry dog shampoo, and Rachel figured Quinn had given them baths. Or they'd eaten a bottle of shampoo, which was equally likely.

Rachel padded across the living room in her wooly socks and down the hallway to the bedroom. She peeked through the door and smiled at the sight of her wife lying with her head at the foot of the bed, feet on her Dalmatian pillow.

And Rachel realized she was singing, barely audibly, "Let it be Me," the Ray Lamontagne song she'd first sang to Rachel, and Rachel's heart fluttered because she just loved that woman so much. Quinn stopped singing abruptly, and beat her hands against her sternum like drums, and Rachel laughed.

Quinn just smiled and lolled her head backwards like she'd known Rachel was there all along. "Not _you_ again." She drawled. "Why are you _always_ around?"

Rachel scrunched up her nose. "Keep singing, baby." She requested, moving forward and bending over to kiss Quinn's lips upside down.

Quinn pressed her lips together shyly. "I don't-I just thought the baby might enjoy it."

Rachel lay down at Quinn's side with an exhausted groan, and Quinn took her cold hands and rubbed them to warm them up again.

"Of course the baby enjoys it." Rachel remarked.

Quinn kissed her fingers. "Your fluffy mittens are in my jacket, babe. You should wear those next time." She suggested. "And my voice isn't as good as your voice."

"Bear, your voice is beautiful." Rachel lolled her head to the side until her cold nose was pressed into Quinn's cheek. "Now sing to us, please."

"It's very small. I don't know if it can hear." Quinn mused.

Rachel chuckled. "I'm sure he or she knows."

"I was telling it about its family." Quinn admitted quietly, still warming up Rachel's fingers. "I said they'd have loads of ridiculous aunts and uncles to look out for them, and grandparents who raised the best girl in the world, and pets if maybe they don't like making friends with people so much, and they'd have the most lovely mama to love them unconditionally."

Rachel kissed Quinn's cheek and let her lips linger. "You're a sweetheart. I'm sure they appreciate that."

If Rachel was a baby, she'd like to be prepared for whatever was going to greet her in the real world.

"Now sing to us, bear." She requested again, and Quinn complied. She got halfway through the song before she fell asleep.

_And when all your faith is gone_

_Feels like you can't go on_

_Let it be me_


	22. Chapter 22

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 22: Everybody Talks**

Quinn was twelve weeks along when Thanksgiving rolled around. She sat next to Rachel in the window seat of an airplane to Ohio, clad in her turkey sweatshirt and wooly socks, while Rachel fretted about their pillows and blankets and food provisions for the two-hour flight.

Quinn nodded easily with each request Rachel made, like "Don't eat the peanuts; they're too salty," and "Recline your chair back so the baby has more space to grow."

The tiny plane they were on didn't have a first class section, and Rachel briefly wondered what kind of illegitimate airline they had chosen and if she really should've trusted that travel site, and Quinn ended up asleep on her shoulder, hot and cold and uncomfortable.

Rachel looked through _Sky Mall_ and tried to convince herself that their living room really didn't need a Sheng Kwong metal gong.

She was writing down the product number when Quinn lifted her head and yawned tiredly.

"Excuse me, baby." Quinn murmured, rubbing at her eyes and moving to climb over Rachel.

Rachel held up a hand to stop her for a second. "Maybe you should have the aisle seat."

Quinn frowned suspiciously, hair so ruffled that Rachel couldn't really take her seriously. "Why?"

"You're pregnant." Rachel responded. "You'll be up multiple times. There's a baby pressing down on your bladder."

Quinn eyed Rachel like she couldn't tell if she was being serious or not. "That baby is two inches long." She said slowly.

"And you'll need to stretch your legs at least twice before we land, so you should have the aisle seat."

"Rachel, I'm not taking the aisle seat." Quinn stated, trying to shove her way past Rachel's knees.

Rachel extended her legs as far as they could go. "Then…just tell me if something hurts, okay? Or if you're more uncomfortable than usual."

Quinn nodded quickly and pushed impatiently against Rachel's legs.

Rachel smiled. "What's the password?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. She spotted a stewardess watching them and flushed to her ears.

"Rachel…"

Rachel pulled her legs back and loosely grabbed Quinn's hand. "It's a kiss." She informed, lifting her chin expectantly.

Quinn bit her cheek, shaking her head like she didn't know how she'd ended up with this person, and she leaned forward and pecked Rachel's lips before shoving past her knees. Rachel squeezed her thigh as she passed, pleased with herself, but disappointed that she hadn't convinced Quinn to take part in any mid-flight exercises.

Quinn was asleep again when the plane began its descent into Columbus, warm breath brushing against Rachel's neck. Rachel quietly tried to straighten Quinn's seat, but Quinn was jolted forward slightly, and then she tipped into the window and grumbled unhappily.

"What are you doing?" She asked hoarsely.

"Un-reclining you." Rachel said absently, fiddling with the clasp of her own tray.

She caught a glimpse of Sky Mall when she finally fastened it into place, and she gripped her armrests to prevent her hands from wandering back to the magazine.

Quinn turned around in her seat, disheveled, but smiling. "Look at all the farmland, baby."

Rachel pressed into Quinn's side and stared out the window at the patchwork of farms below. A sea of brown and yellow divided by small, winding roads.

"Will you be okay when we land?" Rachel asked lightly, watching as buildings replaced the farmland.

Quinn hummed.

"That's a yes?"

"I don't-I never know." Quinn admitted, turning back to Rachel.

"Would you like some pictures?" Rachel asked, tapping Quinn's temple and then smoothing down her ruffled blonde hair.

Quinn raised an eyebrow.

"Picture a Sheng Kwong metal gong," Rachel started.

Because it would be in their living room later.

"And our little, two-inch-long baby, if you _can_ picture that." Rachel only saw hairless mice in her mind when she tried it. "And think of Jolly, the new sea lion at the zoo."

Quinn smiled, and the plane landed, and she informed Rachel of Jolly's life story as they disembarked and made their way to baggage claim. The airport was crowded for Thanksgiving, and Quinn grew quiet as they waited by the carousel, but she still laughed while watching Rachel herniate herself retrieving their bags.

Rachel threw them off the carousel and onto the ground with an exaggerated groan and a massive thump.

"You should've let me do it." Quinn stated with a smile, shuffling off to the side to let other people pass. She met a few eyes, but her gaze remained mostly on their boots.

Rachel breathed for a minute, just to make sure she hadn't hurt herself.

"We're-we're introducing Jolly to her enclosure next week." Quinn informed.

"Uh-oh! Who's Jolly?" Hiram's booming voice came from behind them, and Rachel straightened up and spun around just in time to make sure it was her father who picked her up and spun her around.

Leroy wrapped an arm around Quinn, and then kissed her cheek and looked down at her belly. Only Rachel would notice the slight swelling, but her dads would treat Quinn like she was nine months along and ready to burst.

"There's my little grandbaby!" Hiram proclaimed, dropping Rachel and moving to Quinn.

Quinn pushed her hands deep in her pockets and let them fuss over her.

"Who _is_ Jolly, Quinn?" Leroy asked when he'd had his fill, beaming and seizing the bags before Rachel could do herself an injury.

"She's a sea lion we recently acquired." Quinn informed proudly, barely audible in the commotion.

Rachel watched her wife's fingers fidget in her pockets, and how her gaze drifted from Leroy to survey the growing crowd. Rachel took a step forward, but Hiram was obviously thinking the same thing because he swept his arm around Quinn's shoulders and kissed her head and started moving them towards the elevators.

Rachel watched them fondly, smiling when Quinn turned and caught her eye.

Leroy took the suitcases and bumped his shoulder into Rachel's.

"This is going to be great, honey." He enthused. "We have _so_ many new presents for the baby!"

~ooooooooooooo~

Rachel's fathers had four large plastic containers from Target full of green and yellow baby clothes, blankets, and toys. They extracted each article of clothing and explained why they'd bought it, before handing it to Rachel and Quinn to examine and fawn over.

Quinn stopped fawning after five sets of pajamas, while Rachel gleefully received each new sock and plush toy.

They visited Carole and Burt for dinner and went to bed at eight, mostly because Hiram threatened to bring out Rachel's baby books and Quinn was too tired to appreciate them fully.

But at one in the morning, Quinn was the one nudging Rachel awake, running her wooly socks up Rachel's legs until she finally blinked open her eyes and muttered some garbled protest.

It was dark, and she was warm, and she could feel Quinn pressed into her back, and she just really didn't want to move at the moment.

"Rachel, baby." Quinn whispered right against Rachel's cheek.

Rachel pressed her face into the pillow because that tickled, and Quinn kissed her ear.

"Baby, I'm hungry and I can't sleep."

There was no way Rachel could just close her eyes and ignore that. She rolled over and studied Quinn to make sure her wife wasn't sleep talking.

"Are you awake, bear?" Rachel whispered groggily.

Quinn nodded, and Rachel flailed an arm behind her to turn on the lamp. She and Quinn groaned when they were temporarily blinded by the light.

"No." Quinn protested vaguely, burying her face in Rachel's chest.

She ended up with a boob against her cheek, and Rachel could feel her smile. She tangled a hand in Quinn's hair and tugged on it to get her to look up.

"Do you need something to eat?" she asked thickly, already dreading the walk down to the freezing kitchen.

Quinn licked her lips, watching Rachel hesitantly. It was the look Rachel always got when Quinn was presenting her with something that might upset her. Like a new animal. Or cookies for lunch.

"What can I get you, baby?" Rachel asked, sitting up and wondering why her old house was so _cold_.

Quinn sat up as well. "I'm…I'd really like…orange Jell-O." she admitted softly.

Rachel's lips twitched. "Jell-O? Really?"

Quinn nodded. "_Orange_, please."

Rachel's amusement faded as she realized that would involve putting on pants and going outside and driving to some kind of open-all-night store, and she'd probably be killed or robbed or frozen to death.

"Or…toast." Quinn said, watching Rachel carefully. "I'm-toast is okay too."

Rachel threw the covers off like she was ripping away a Band-Aid and suppressed her groan. "I'll get you orange Jell-O, bear." She assured, already stumbling around the room to her suitcase, not really sure what it looked like or where she was going or why she was out of bed because it was _one in the morning_.

She was crouched low, disoriented, in front of her bookcase when a pair of sweatpants landed softly on her back. Rachel held them up and squinted at them, and then turned around to face Quinn.

"You just took off your pants?"

"You didn't bring sweats." Quinn explained, pulling the covers to her chin. "Put those over your pajamas and you'll be warm."

Rachel blinked. "But now you're not wearing any pants?"

Quinn frowned. "Are you awake, Rachel?"

Rachel shook her head, because really, _no_, she wasn't, but she pulled the sweats up over her fuzzy blue pajamas and rolled up the cuffs, grabbed a jacket and shoes and kissed Quinn before heading downstairs.

The cold woke her up, and she retrieved a four-pack of orange Jell-O from the all-night store in the center of town. She got blue as well because she just _knew_ Quinn would go through all the colors of the rainbow. There were only a few cars on the road, and Rachel wondered if they were also up doing things for their warm, hungry, pregnant wives because love happens.

Rachel stumbled through the doorway when she got home, trying to stay quiet, but wholly unable to control her numb limbs. She put two of the Jell-O cups in the fridge and grabbed a spoon, and then hurried up the stairs to her warm bed.

"Alright bear, I have-"

Rachel cut herself off because the light was on and she could see Quinn lying down, curled under the covers with her face pressed into the pillow, shoulders shaking silently. Rachel rushed forward and dropped the Jell-O cups on the side table and her jacket on the desk, and then climbed in on the cool side of the bed facing Quinn.

"Quinn, baby, what's wrong?" she whispered, trying to wiggle her way into Quinn's space. "What happened? Do you feel alright?"

Quinn loosened her hold on the blankets and let Rachel in, _of course_, and Rachel scooted until she could wrap her fuzzy sweats around Quinn's bare legs.

"Bear, look at me." Rachel pleaded softly, tapping Quinn's temple. "Are you in pain? What's the matter?"

Quinn lolled her head to the side, sniffling quietly. Her shoulders kept shaking.

"Quinn…" Rachel rubbed her back and wiped away the tears from under shining hazel eyes. "Talk to me, please."

Quinn took a shuddering breath and coughed, and then dropped her head back onto the pillow.

"I want-I'd-I'd like onions." She managed, eyes on their pillowcase.

Rachel stared at her, concerned and confused and a little bit incredulous. "I-what?"

Quinn's face crumpled further.

Rachel panicked. "Wait, no, baby! I didn't hear what you said!"

"I don't-I don't _like_ onions!" Quinn proclaimed shakily, picking her head back up. Rachel brushed away the hair stuck to her cheeks. "They're-they're awful. They ruin everything. Even the smell…"

Rachel nodded, almost violently. Agree, agree, agree.

"But I want them." Quinn muttered, pulling a hand out of the blankets to wipe at her eyes. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

Her voice cracked and she clamped her hand over her mouth and started crying again. It was never loud. She wasn't the kind to wail, like Rachel, who was so overwhelmed sometimes when she cried that she just needed to let it out through her mouth, like an exorcised demon.

Tears had effects on her voice that she could rarely achieve otherwise.

Rachel lifted herself onto an elbow and kissed Quinn's wet cheek, using her other hand to rub the back of her wife's neck.

"There's _nothing_ wrong with you, sweetheart." She assured quietly, filled with adrenaline and relief because technically Quinn was perfectly fine.

In some kind of desperate need of onions, but fine.

Quinn shook her head against the pillow.

"This is normal, baby. You know that." Rachel soothed.

"I don't like onions." Quinn's voice was muffled.

Rachel smiled. "Maybe now you do."

Quinn shook her head again.

"_Maybe_ I'll chop up some onions right now, because _I_ like them and I'm pretty hungry, and if you'd like to try a few, just to make sure they're as awful as always, that would be perfectly fine."

Quinn was silent, breathing returning to normal. She lifted up her head and blinked tiredly at Rachel. "You look cold." She observed, distressed.

"I'm not, really. I have your pants on, remember?"

It took a moment, but Quinn's lips quirked up and she lifted the covers to see Rachel's legs.

"I'll give them back when I come back up." Rachel promised.

Quinn wiped her face with the pillow case and moved her jaw around. "Did you get Jell-O?"

Rachel nodded proudly. "Would you like some?"

"Yes, please." Quinn replied, voice small, and Rachel moved to roll out of bed, but found that Quinn had her trapped in her arms.

Quinn squeezed her tightly, and Rachel was glad for the warmth.

"Thank you. I love you. I'd like blue Jell-O next time, please."

~oooooooooooo~

Rachel watched with quite a bit of trepidation as Hiram spooned about half of a pumpkin pie onto her plate. He went to scrape up some more, but Rachel swept her plate away, too focused on keeping down her tofurkey and vegetables and potatoes and gravy to speak.

"Sure that's enough, honey?" Hiram checked.

Rachel hummed and returned to the couch, and Hiram dolloped the pie onto Quinn's outstretched plate.

"Thank you." Quinn declared happily, returning to her seat next to Rachel.

All Rachel could do was stare at the dessert. She felt dizzy, like she could face-plant into it at any moment. But it was Thanksgiving and she needed the full experience, so she'd have to take at least a couple bites of pie.

Quinn watched her. "There's no tryptophan in tofurkey, Rachel." She informed, mouth full of cream.

Rachel swayed in her comfy seat.

"Are you okay?"

"You kept me up last night." Rachel accused lightly, managing to pull her lips into a smile without Linda Blair-ing in the living room.

Hiram and Leroy both made loud noises of protest, pulling overly repulsed faces, and Quinn blushed profusely and shook her head.

"She's not-I was hungry and Rachel went to the store for me." She explained, clutching her stomach because she was also forcing pie somewhere it really wasn't wanted at the moment. A stomach full of turkey and macaroni and carrots wouldn't stop Quinn.

Rachel took a deep breath and lifted a bite to her mouth, chewing slowly and swallowing bit by bit. She refused to open her mouth very wide, so she was unsurprised when Quinn reached over and used her thumb to wipe cream from her top lip.

Rachel sighed heavily and Quinn smiled at her.

"So, girls, we have something we'd like to tell you." Leroy proclaimed.

He and Hiram seemed perfectly fine with their pie, obviously more self-restrained than both Rachel and Quinn. Rachel waved her hand through the air to get him to continue. She knocked Quinn in the shoulder because her vision was blurring, and she finally just put the pie on the coffee table and leaned into Quinn's side.

Quinn hummed sympathetically and ate more of her own dessert.

"We've decided to move to New York." Hiram informed, smiling brightly.

Rachel's first reaction was to squeal, but she contained herself because she needed to remain still until she regained function of her body. She gasped instead, a risky move, and clapped her hands together.

"When?" Quinn questioned, depositing her bowl on the table and then toppling sideways into Rachel. A full, foolish, pie-filled pile.

Leroy watched them fondly. "The new year! We want to be around for the baby, to babysit and visit and everything, so we're selling this place, and-"

"_What_?" Rachel interrupted, sitting forward abruptly. Quinn squeezed her thigh.

"In the new year," Leroy repeated, confused, "we're moving-"

"You're selling our house?" Rachel asked incredulously, eyes wide.

Hiram glanced at Leroy. Quinn kept her eyes on Rachel.

"Well, honey, we're not going to have a place in New York as well as this house. That's-"

"Why not?!"

Hiram frowned, like he was confused as to where this conversation had gone wrong. Surprisingly, Quinn was the one to fill the silence.

"It's not practical, baby." She said quietly, tapping the small of Rachel's back.

Rachel huffed shortly and chewed on her lip.

"We didn't think you were so attached to this house." Leroy ventured cautiously.

Rachel almost smiled. The big, blue house with a cherry tree in the backyard and a sound-proofed bedroom had been her home for seventeen years.

Sure, she had to hug the wall in her bedroom to get the air conditioner to stop rattling from within, but she loved the small, porcelain doorknobs on the cabinets in the kitchen, and the way her bedroom flooded with light in the morning because of her vaulted ceiling, focusing on her bed like a spotlight.

And she loved that her blue house had always been a safe place.

"I'm-I don't-maybe if…" Rachel looked for an explanation, eyes darting around the framed finger-paintings on the walls.

"Babe." Quinn murmured, just under her breath. She tapped Rachel's lips.

"I-I _love_ New York," Rachel started, gazing earnestly at her dads, "and it'll be so great to have you there for the baby, but…this _house_. I like-I liked having somewhere I could go-warm and small, and-I just get overwhelmed sometimes."

Hiram looked confused. "But you only come out here on holidays, honey."

"I like knowing that I _can_ come back." Rachel clarified. She glanced at Quinn. "I haven't _needed_ to for a while."

Quinn straightened in her seat, gaze flitting from Rachel to Rachel's dads. "I think their new apartment, or house, can be that place for you, Rachel."

Leroy nodded immediately.

"It won't be in the city, right?" Quinn questioned, and Leroy nodded again. "So it will be quiet and warm, and probably even smaller than this one knowing how expensive New York real estate is."

Hiram frowned like he didn't know if he should be offended.

"And we'll fill it with new things, new baby memories, and we can steal the doorknobs from this kitchen if you'd like." Quinn plowed on.

Rachel's lips twitched. She was silent for a moment before addressing her dads. "You'll make sure it has a room for us and the baby?"

They nodded like it was obvious. Like they'd have a nursery and a playroom and a slide in the backyard because it was all _necessary_.

"Absolutely, sweetheart. Of course." Leroy assured, head still bobbing.

Rachel's stomach rumbled, and she caught Quinn's eye and had to smile.

Quinn grabbed Rachel's leftover pie and settled it in her wife's hands. "I'll help you."

And Rachel picked at the dessert with her fork, alternating bites between herself and Quinn, who liked to lick all over the utensil just to annoy Rachel.

Leroy and Hiram launched into a discussion about how they'd already bought a garage full of baby furniture, and how they would be able to transport it to New York.

~oooooooooooo~

Quinn's autism program at the zoo launched the first week of December, and she'd organized a 5k in Central Park to celebrate. Rachel wanted to participate, of course, to draw crowds and to hold a couple dogs, mostly Barnaby and Cornelius, so that Quinn wouldn't be dragged off into the sunset.

So Rachel stood in the cold on a blanket of dry leaves, in two pairs of track pants, her face buried so deeply in her hoody and puffy jacket that only her nose and eyes were visible. One mittened hand was shoved in her fleecy pocket, and the other held the dogs' leashes.

She could see Barnaby's breath as he panted excitedly, and she wondered why she consistently subjected herself to 5ks in extreme weather conditions.

But then Rachel blew into her hands and turned around to find Quinn speaking with two young boys, who'd been lifted over the guard rail, gesturing at Cloud's teeth like she was teaching them about canine dentistry.

One of the boys pointed at his own incisors, and Quinn laughed and nodded.

Rachel stepped towards the rail to see if she could sign some autographs without being dragged across a frozen pond by Barnaby.

"You know you're not goddamn _Balto_, right Berry?" A loud voice called out, and Rachel rolled her eyes and took a quick picture with a fan before turning to find Santana slithering her way past a security guard.

Brittany followed with Flappy, who wore some kind of rudimentary harness fashioned from colorful string.

"What the fuck are you doing out here?" Santana questioned once she was close enough. She wore a wool coat and slacks, obviously not planning on running five kilometers with hordes of fools.

Rachel smiled. "What are _you_ doing out here?"

Santana ignored the question. "Are you pulling a sled? Or catching the Polar Express, because that's the only way you'll finish this thing."

Flappy squawked and waved his wings around, and Quinn appeared at Rachel's side, cheeks red and eyes shining. Rachel kneeled down and wrapped her arms around Cloud because he was basically a polar bear and he should be able to keep her warm.

"Poultry don't like cold weather, Britt." Quinn informed, eyeing Flappy dubiously. "That's why they migrate south for the winter. Most of our chickens come from Georgia."

Brittany hummed sagely. "Flaps is different from the other ducks."

Flappy surged forward like he was trying to attack the crowd, but his colorful harness caught him and tipped him onto his back. Santana was turned away from them, obviously trying to pretend she didn't know these people.

"Really, what are you doing here?" Rachel asked, standing up and sputtering on floating white fur.

"Blaine and Kurt made us bridesmaids!" Brittany proclaimed. "And probably you too, but we weren't really listening so I don't know. We're dress shopping."

Rachel rocked back on her heels as Quinn forcefully brushed the white dog hair off her jacket.

"And we thought 'hey, what are those idiots in the park doing?'" Santana added helpfully.

"It's for autism awareness and animal education." Quinn stated quietly, focusing on Rachel's jacket.

Brittany elbowed Santana's ribs. "Yeah, San. Autism awareness and animal education."

Flappy took off, and was yanked back down to the ground by his harness.

"Don't knock me over, bear." Rachel instructed with a smile, stutter-stepping backwards to stay on her feet while Quinn brushed at her front.

Quinn frowned at the black jacket. "You're all static-y. It's not coming off."

Cloud had provided Rachel with her own layer of fur.

"Miss Berry!" a local reporter called out, standing next to a security guard on the other side of the rail, "Could we have a word?"

Rachel smiled enthusiastically, and was pleasantly surprised when Quinn accompanied her over to the camera.

"It's Berry-Fabray." Quinn stated bluntly, staring at the reporter, unamused. He nodded indulgently and repeated the correct name, and Quinn crunched the leaves under her shoes and looked expectantly at Rachel.

Rachel chuckled and adjusted her jacket so that she looked less like an Eskimo.

"Now, Rachel, _and_ Quinn, we have a few questions for you both from our zealous Broadway fans."

Rachel puffed herself up and glanced eagerly up at Quinn, whose gaze was on a police horse in the distance. She subtly poked Quinn's thigh to get her to focus.

"We'd love to answer some questions." Rachel grinned.

"Okay, first, from Marissa in Brooklyn, what made you want to combine autism awareness with animal rescue and education?"

Rachel raised her eyebrows and looked at Quinn, whose eyes were back on the horse.

"There was a dog named Apple, and I used to read to him." Quinn answered softly. She didn't say anything else, like her explanation was enough, so Rachel decided to elaborate.

"Quinn found that animals, dogs especially, are great for people with autism. And-"

"They're tolerant and tactile and practical in how they act." Quinn interrupted, nodding with Rachel. "They live in everybody's world. Nobody is shut out."

The reporter tilted his head at the curious phrasing.

"I'm currently reconstructing one of our snow monkey's legs, and he tried to throw bits of banana at me." Quinn continued, smiling at Rachel because she'd told her this last night. "But he threw bits of banana at _everybody_, because to him everybody's just a person, and we all have two legs and stand upright and get cold in the snow and hot in the summer, and nothing else should matter."

Rachel bit her lip watching the reactions of the small crowd who'd never met Quinn's mind before. A few furrowed their brows, probably thinking "_I_ don't get hot in the summer," and others nodded approvingly. Some stared in wonder and thought.

"I completely agree." The reporter remarked, pulling out his next card. "Casey, in Manhattan, would like to know, who is messier at home? Rachel or Quinn?"

Rachel laughed immediately, loudly, and Quinn puffed out her cheeks in offense and looked back at the horse.

"Quinn." Rachel answered confidently. "Quinn is a mess, but only with food and her hair. Otherwise, we're both very neat."

"Rachel is a clutz, though." Quinn tacked on. "Always knocking things over. So I say we're equal."

The reporter smiled. "Eric, also from Manhattan, is wondering, if you two could be anything else in the world, what would you be?"

There was a beat of silence, and then Quinn answered "Triceratops" at the same time Rachel said "teacher."

And then Rachel snorted because _Quinn_, and the reporter laughed like he thought Quinn was joking.

Quinn's cheeks grew redder. "Wait, no-I'm, no, I misunderstood the question."

That made Rachel laugh louder, and she knew her fans would love this interview. Almost as much as they loved Quinn and Rachel's dogs, and Kurt, because he'd once picked Rachel up piggy-back style and sprinted across the park to amuse the paparazzi.

"Next question, from Alec in the Bronx, are you competitive people, and do you actually try to win the 5ks you run?"

Quinn was still bright red and probably thinking about dinosaurs, so Rachel took the question.

"You need to change that '_run_' to '_walk_,' because I can't run to save my life." She joked. "I'm not a runner, and I'd die if something like a wolf tried to chase me down."

Quinn snorted lightly. "Wolves hunt in packs, Rachel. You'd die anyway."

Rachel knocked into her shoulder.

"Quinn had to carry me across the finish line the first time we did this."

The reporter looked amused. "Is that what will happen today?"

Rachel smiled softly. "Not in her condition."

"What condition is that?" The reporter probably figured Rachel was making another joke, but Rachel froze at what she'd just done.

No filter at all.

"She's-I mean, we've just been-" Rachel sputtered, right as Quinn declared "We're having a baby."

The crowd seemed suspended in time, waiting for somebody to confirm that Quinn wasn't joking. Quinn stared steadfastly at the reporter and took Rachel's mittened hand in her own.

Alright then, no beating around the bush. No nonsense or games.

Rachel nodded in confirmation, and her fans exploded with shrieks and applause, startling the dogs into play-mode. Quinn wrapped an arm around Rachel's waist, and they thanked the reporters, not giving out any further details, and went to _walk_ their race with their dogs, hearts warmed with the fact that there were already people out there who loved this baby and supported them.

Rachel hoped it would stay that way, excitement and warmth and positivity at all times. It seemed to be rare.

"Tell me if you need to rest, bear, okay?" Rachel instructed, speaking through her smile and waving to her fans at the starting line.

Quinn nodded. "We're jogging, right?"

"Until I collapse or freeze to death."

Quinn smiled. "But you need to carry me across the finish line. Me and little baby."

"And tell me if you feel sick, or if you want to stop for a churro or something."

A nice cinnamon snack halfway through a 5k run.

Quinn did stop, actually, but it was only to buy a rose from a vendor right off the path, and she smiled widely, cheeks red, and slid it behind Rachel's ear as they walked.

"For you." She said simply.

Rachel knew that Quinn would make the sweetest Triceratops.


	23. Chapter 23

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 23: Small Bump**

Rachel sat on the bed, slowly increasing the pressure of her knees in Quinn's back to see how long it would take for her wife to wake up. It was cold, and it was Rachel's birthday, and Quinn had slept for a good ten hours, so Rachel had no qualms about playing games with her slumber.

Quinn was sprawled with her two left limbs dangling haphazardly over the edge of the bed. If Rachel pushed hard enough with her knees, she could flop her wife right down to the ground.

Turn her into a puppet, maybe, because that's how deeply Quinn slept.

Quinn, her _pregnant wife_, who didn't need to be _propelled_ to the floor at the moment.

Rachel sat back and settled on another method. She could really only see Quinn's cheek because Quinn's hair was splayed out-where Rachel had been running her hands through it, trying to get it to stand up-and the rest of her body was cocooned in blankets.

It really was very cold. Rachel wrapped a fleece around her own shoulders and then leaned forward, careful not to tip herself over Quinn and right off the bed.

"Baby." Rachel whispered, prodding Quinn's cheek with a cold finger.

No response.

"Baby, sweetie, sugar-pie, cutie, darling, honey-bunch, lovely, bear."

Quinn's nose scrunched up.

Rachel ran cool fingers over her cheek. "Are you awake? I know you're awake."

"Go 'way." Quinn grumbled, tipping herself further off the edge.

Rachel lifted an eyebrow and seized a handful of Quinn's blankets to prevent her from slipping to the floor.

"It's my birthday." Rachel remarked right in Quinn's ear.

Quinn groaned. "Rachel, get lost."

Rachel scoffed. She moved from Quinn's head to her belly, or where her belly was _supposed_ to be, because really it was just a mountain of downy comforter and fleece and red pajamas, but she managed to find the small bump. She rested her hand on it fondly.

"Mommy's being grumpy, isn't she baby?" She made sure her voice was loud enough for Quinn to hear. "And she's about to roll herself right over the edge of the bed. That'll be fun, won't it? Like your first roller coaster ride!"

Quinn shifted slightly, surreptitiously, backwards, and Rachel smirked.

"She's irritating as well." Rachel informed their baby, lifting up a little to see Quinn's face. "She steals all the blankets and then throws them on the floor when she gets too hot, so I wake up _freezing_ and have to get out of bed at three in the morning to pick them all back up."

Quinn blindly flailed an arm backwards, catching Rachel in the head before more gently patting down her dark hair, like an apology. Rachel squirmed away from the hand like it had a mind of its own.

"But it's okay if you're just like her." Rachel whispered, leaning up a little to pry the covers away from Quinn's upper body without Quinn noticing. It was a task.

"I can't wait to meet you. For you to squeeze my thumb and smile at me for the first time."

The baby could do anything really, punch her in the face with its tiny little fist, and Rachel would break down in tears of joy.

Rachel peeled back the quilt, the sheet, two fleece blankets, and a robe, and finally found Quinn's body. Quinn's protests had died down, but her face was turning redder from hanging over the bed.

Rachel settled lightly on top of her, supporting most of her own weight, and palmed Quinn's cheek.

"Your hands are _freezing_." Quinn mumbled, rolling onto her back and blinking up at Rachel. "What are you-have you been playing in ice water?"

Yes. That's exactly how Rachel liked to spend her mornings.

"Bear, it's my birthday."

Quinn licked her lips. "I'm aware."

"You told me to get lost."

"And you didn't."

Rachel grinned. "I'm very persistent." She brushed the hair out of Quinn's eyes and tilted forward so that their noses brushed together.

Quinn hummed. "Like a chronic illness."

Rachel exaggerated her gasp.

"You just keep coming back." Quinn's eyes sparkled. "You're _always_ here. Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Not really." Rachel shrugged. "My other wife and kids aren't nearly as needy as you are."

Quinn finally laughed and wrapped her arms around Rachel's body, squeezing tightly. "No, you love me best." She said into Rachel's hair.

"Only if you get out of bed for my birthday." Rachel responded, muffled by the pillow.

Quinn squeezed tighter.

Rachel chuckled. "I love you best. Most. You and only you. And our baby who likes onions."

"That shouldn't be a descriptive factor of our child."

"It's the only thing we know about it." Rachel argued, wriggling out of Quinn's hug, only to go back in for a kiss.

Quinn hummed against Rachel's lips, and she was so warm and that little bump was right there, and Rachel gently tugged up her shirt, revealing a swelling of smooth pale skin. Quinn lurched when the shirt passed her breasts, hissing, and Rachel thought for a moment that she was about to be flung off the bed.

"What is it? Are you going to be sick?" She questioned hurriedly, already calculating if she could flip over the edge of the bed and land on her feet in time to grab the small trash can.

Like a cat. Rachel was nimble. She could do it.

Quinn looked distractedly up at her. "I haven't been sick in two weeks. My…_boobs_ are sore."

She looked confused at this revelation, even though they'd both expected it.

Rachel's gaze dropped automatically to her wife's bare chest. She narrowed her eyes at the nipples. They didn't look like they would be sore, maybe just a little red. Rachel ran her fingers along the swell to check.

"Stop examining them." Quinn whispered.

Rachel tapped a finger against Quinn's sternum. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, baby."

Quinn smiled. "You couldn't hurt me."

"I _could_, but I never would." Rachel corrected. "You smile like sunbeams and save me loads of money on vet bills."

Quinn laughed loudly. "Get lost, Rachel. Leave me alone."

"How do we do this?" Rachel asked, ignoring the statement and gesturing vaguely down at their bodies.

Quinn's laughter faded to a smile, and she sat up abruptly and rolled Rachel over, and Rachel was stricken with panic for a second that she was finally being tossed over the edge of the bed. But Quinn pulled her back and climbed down to Rachel's knees, and Rachel's eyes widened when Quinn's fingers hooked in the waistband of her pajama pants.

"Baby, you don't have to-"

"It's your birthday." Quinn interrupted, carefully pulling the pajamas over Rachel's feet without taking the wooly socks with them. She feigned confusion. "Didn't you know that?"

Rachel snorted.

"Just…don't touch…" Quinn trailed off and glanced down at her own breasts.

"Don't touch your boobies." Rachel recited, nodding. She smiled when Quinn's cheeks turned red, because really, was Quinn not aware of where her head was right now?

"I love you. And happy birthday." Quinn said, _finally_.

And Rachel would've responded, but she had to suck in a breath of air instead. It was off to a good start.

~oooooooooo~

"I balanced our budget."

Rachel blinked across the table, strewn with placemats and empty appetizer plates, and wondered how this was a birthday present. Maybe Quinn had bought something so massive that it required the overhaul of their finances.

"I…looked at our income and savings and expenses, and factored in basic baby costs, overestimating because that's better than coming up short, and I came up with a budget and a plan for the nursery."

Rachel processed this. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes in thought. "That's-why has that never crossed my mind?"

"What?"

"A budget!" Rachel's eyes grew wide. What had she been planning on doing, flinging cash at their baby? "I never even considered that! Oh my-"

"Rachel." Quinn reached across the table and stilled Rachel's flailing hand.

"And we should be saving for college." Rachel plowed right on. "Should we start a trust fund? How expensive are toddler dance classes these days? Oh my _God_, Quinn, college costs hundreds of thousands of dollars!"

Quinn looked alarmed. "Rachel, baby, stop."

Rachel's mouth hung open and she stared at her wife.

"We have plenty-we're not lacking in any department when it comes to finances." Quinn explained slowly. "I just wanted to delineate it all so I have it right in front of me."

Rachel closed her mouth.

"Just to be prepared, right?" Quinn asked, smiling slightly. "I thought you'd like that. I know-I know you've been too busy to do it yourself."

"We have hundreds of thousands of dollars for college?" Rachel checked, leaning in, wide-eyed.

Quinn tapped each of her knuckles. "We'll have enough, little bear. I found absolutely nothing to worry about."

"What if college costs a million dollars by the time the baby grows up?"

Quinn looked amused. "College will not cost a million dollars, Rachel."

Rachel was skeptical. She remembered Quinn asking Lisa for help to pay for NYU. If Lisa hadn't said yes, Rachel probably would've anonymously wired the money to the school just so that Quinn could attend. Slithered in through a window and added it to the records

"Even if it does, our baby's still going." Rachel said resolutely.

Quinn nodded. "If he or she wants."

"Even if we have to rob a bank."

Quinn hooked her feet around Rachel's ankle under the table.

"Did you say you planned the nursery?" Rachel asked, letting her hand go limp so that Quinn could play with her wedding band.

Quinn bit her lip. "I-had some help from Kurt. I just wanted-we make-we made some drawings, of the walls and furniture placement, and then you and I would do all the details, of course."

Rachel smiled softly. "You have drawings?"

Quinn cleared her throat and pulled her hand away from Rachel's to reach into her bag. She came out with several folded sheets of paper, but made no move to show them to Rachel.

Rachel watched her expectantly.

"You don't-I mean, you don't even need to see them. They're probably-"

"That's my birthday present, right?" Rachel questioned, eyeing the papers.

Quinn hesitated. "It's not…a very good one."

Rachel had to smile. She leaned across the table, careful not to dip her clothing in their drinks, and took Quinn's hand. "Bear, you're carrying our baby." She whispered.

"That's not a present." Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Quinn! That's-that's better than any _present_. It's a life. It's-" Rachel waved an arm through the air. "I don't even know. You're giving me a _person_."

Quinn tried to suppress her smile. "I'm just making another one of me who can love you better than I can."

Rachel almost burst into tears on the drawings that were being unfolded in front of her.

"This one's for a boy." Quinn began, not noticing how hard Rachel was working to contain herself. Rachel swallowed everything down and watched Quinn's face, which was focused on the paper.

"There are pastel walls, pale green or blue, and whatever color we don't use will the color of the animal outlines." Quinn described. "We have-we have a dinosaur on one wall and an elephant on the other, all as tall as the ceiling, and Kurt has all these posters, like _Beauty and the Beast_ and _Mary Poppins_ and _Chitty Chitty Bang Bang_."

Rachel finally dropped her eyes to the drawings, immediately pleased with what she saw. And immediately on the cusp of another breakdown.

"And I've-I've only looked online, but they have these classic Pooh Bear borders to match baby linens, and they have some with penguins and other things, and did you know that duck billed platypuses can store six hundred worms in their cheeks?"

The only thing that came bursting out of Rachel's mouth is "I love you," and Quinn seemed surprised, but pleased.

"And, for a girl, we have green or yellow, with a giraffe and a star, and the same linens and everything."

"It's perfect."

"Really? Because-"

"No, I want this. Can we paint it ourselves?"

Quinn nodded quickly. "Absolutely!"

"It's beautiful, Quinn."

"And I think we should pay for your fathers' house." Quinn blurted. She shook her head around and curled her hand into a fist like that leap had been unplanned.

Rachel furrowed her brow. "You-what? Really?"

"Just-they-they won't be working as much, and we're _really_ set, so I thought we could help."

"I've tried sending money home, Quinn," Rachel smiled wryly. "They really don't want it. They're perfectly fine."

Quinn nodded slightly and then dropped her gaze to her drink.

"Okay. What about-maybe we could do it for Lisa?"

Rachel hummed thoughtfully, a little surprised. She watched Quinn's eyes trace the ice cubes in her lemonade.

"Hey." She said after a minute when Quinn still hadn't looked up. "Bear. Do I have chocolate on my face?"

Quinn met her eyes automatically, and then snorted lightly when Rachel grinned.

"Does Lisa _need_ help?" Rachel asked while she had Quinn's attention. "Or would you just like to take care of her?"

"She has medical bills."

Rachel frowned. Had she blocked something out of her memory? "What kind of medical bills? Is she alright? Why didn't I know about this?"

Quinn took Rachel's hand and interlocked their fingers. "She's having kidney problems. She's had several tests and I'd just like to help her."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Rachel asked again, eyes flitting between Quinn's..

Quinn faltered. "I don't-I'm not used to having a family to tell you about, even though I tell you everything; it just never…occurs to me, I guess. And I don't know what the…_protocol _is."

Rachel pressed her toes against Quinn's boots. "Protocol?"

Quinn shook her head around. "It's not-coming out-this isn't-"

Rachel let her work it out.

"Like-how-how do I talk to her? When I go and see her, do I make moronic small talk, and who do I tell? Do I pay for it all? Does anybody care? And if they do care, are they just faux sympathetic dumbasses who don't _really_ care?"

"_Quinn_, baby."

Quinn flushed and played with her straw, clamping her mouth shut.

"_That's_ why you should've told me." Rachel remarked softly. "I can help. I can talk you through it, like you do with me. _I_ care, and our friends care, and it would be lovely if we could help your aunt."

Quinn smiled slightly. "Thank you."

Rachel shook her head. "Don't thank me. This is what family does. That little baby of ours is going to be the one taking care of us when we're old like elephants and eat nothing but chocolate pudding."

"And roll in the mud, right?" Quinn knocked her boot into Rachel's leg.

Rachel was about to respond when she saw a fleet of waitresses making their way through the restaurant towards her table.

"We'll-I'm sure we can help Lisa out, Quinn." She said distractedly.

There was no way they could be doing this. Wasn't it a formal restaurant? Had they no shame? She eyed the cake in the waitresses' hands and the sparkle in Quinn's eyes and just let it roll. Throw it out there and let it go.

This was happening.

She wore the crown they gave her and sang along to their birthday song, because she was _Rachel Berry_, and it was like the whole thing had been customized around her personality. Shining and glittering and over-the-top and just a little bit obnoxious. She'd never gotten a crown before.

Of course Quinn would be the first to give her one.

~oooooooooooo~

Rachel was always up for new experiences. New ways to spend the day and new people to meet, new things to eat, and she'd always find the good in these experiences, even if there wasn't much and the best she could come up with was _well, at least the Cajun clams only kept me vomiting for a couple hours_.

So Rachel was only mildly frustrated when Quinn was called on Christmas day to assist in emergency tooth extraction surgery for a tiger.

It was a _brand _new experience. A novel Christmas. Standing in a veterinary field house watching Quinn don her scrubs and eyeing the massive anesthetized cat draped over the surgery table in the next room.

It was a large room, white and stainless steel, much like a human hospital, except the surgery table here was about three times as wide and could hold eight hundred pounds. A bear. A tiger. There were slings hanging from the ceiling to assist in moving the animals, and Quinn stood next to a tray holding various saws and knives.

Not scalpels. Actual _knives_. Large, heavy-duty butcher knives. Serial killer knives. A set of clamps that looked like they could fit around Rachel's head.

"Will this hurt him?" Rachel asked one of the vet techs who stood with her on the other side of the glass.

"He's knocked out. He won't feel a thing."

"He doesn't look-I mean, he looks alright. Healthy." Rachel ventured cautiously. "Did this really have to happen on Christmas?"

The woman nodded. "He has an abscessed tooth infection. Hasn't eaten for a week."

Rachel frowned. That was no fun. Just this morning Cornelius had eaten a carton of leftover Chinese, eggshells from the trash, and strips of Christmas ham in his breakfast.

"Dr. Fabray and Dr. Martin are just taking the tooth out."

_Berry-Fabray_, Rachel almost corrected.

Quinn had a gloved hand wrapped around the tiger's tongue. Rachel winced at how she man-handled it, tugging and twisting until it was secured outside of the mouth.

"What's his name?" she wondered, spiraling into some kind of love with this giant cat. She'd take him home for Christmas, give him all the food he could eat.

"Baloo."

Rachel smiled automatically. "Like the bear."

A sloth bear, according to Quinn.

"He lives at a rescue upstate. Somebody previously had him as a pet, and he was neglected and then seized by animal control."

Maybe Rachel wouldn't take him home.

Quinn now had her entire fist in the tiger's mouth. Her _pregnant wife_ had her hand in a tiger's mouth. Baloo's paw, larger than Rachel's face, dangled slightly over the edge of the table and grazed Quinn's thigh.

Rachel was a little anxious.

"And there's-there's _no_ chance he could wake up?" she checked with the tech, already imagining the tiger rising and swiping and taking Quinn out with a single blow. Maybe shutting his mouth and catching Quinn's arm halfway down his throat.

"These people know what they're doing."

Baloo wouldn't hurt anybody. Rachel chose to trust her striking, stripy new best friend with the giant teeth.

"Do you have many animal…_accidents_?" Rachel asked, not really sure if she wanted to hear the answer. It could send her around the bend. Quinn being mauled by a bear had previously only been a laughable impossibility.

If anybody here was going to get mauled by a bear, it would be Quinn.

"We anesthetize any large mammals we work on," the tech said, gesturing at the tiger, "and getting a dart in them can be dangerous. We've all been kicked by the petting zoo animals, and bitten and pecked by the penguins, and a few weeks ago one of our red pandas caught somebody's arm with her claws, and she had to have that stitched up."

Okay. Rachel breathed deeply. Quinn was working in a deathtrap.

"And I'm sure Quinn told you about the sea lion that knocked her down. _Massive_ bruise that left on her back."

Rachel gasped.

The woman's eyes went wide. "It's all minor, though. It comes with the job. You know, wild animals."

Quinn was sawing away at something inside Baloo's mouth, brow furrowed and face covered by her mask, and Rachel was _proud_, but really, why couldn't Quinn have gone into small animals instead? Like rabbits. Toothless rabbits.

Or lizards, non-poisonous and non-bitey.

Butterflies.

The doctors extracted the tooth, and Quinn took a soldering iron to the nerves, and Rachel was just a _little bit_ horrified, but then Quinn finished and suctioned away the blood and _finally_ took her hands out of Baloo's mouth, and Rachel could breathe again.

Quinn stepped out of the surgery room and peeled off the mask and scrubs and bandana holding her hair back, and approached Rachel with a smile, which faded rapidly because Rachel was making some kind of facial expression she had no control over.

"_Quinn Fabray_." Rachel said sharply, pulling her wife off to the side.

Quinn's eyes went wide. Wide and confused.

"Don't you look at me like that." Rachel instructed. She felt like grabbing Quinn's scrub top and pushing her against the wall to make this more dramatic.

"Rachel, what-"

"You were shoved by a sea lion?!" Rachel screeched, belatedly realizing how ridiculous that sounded.

Quinn's mouth dropped open.

"You were knocked down by a sea lion, and you received a quote _massive bruise_, and you didn't tell me?!"

"Who are you quoting?" Quinn asked incredulously.

"Don't change the subject!"

Quinn bit her tongue, looking very much like she was trying not to laugh. She fixed her expression and gazed somberly down at Rachel.

"Why didn't you tell me you were attacked by an animal?!" Rachel demanded, lowering her voice a bit.

Quinn scoffed. "I wasn't _attacked_, Rachel. Sea lions like to throw their weight around."

Like fuel to the fire.

Rachel reached for the hem of Quinn's shirt. "I never saw that bruise. Was it-"

"No, baby, it was months ago." Quinn cut her off and gently encircled Rachel's wrist, preventing her from lifting her shirt for all to see.

Rachel pouted, losing a bit of her fire.

"It was only there for a couple days." Quinn assured, lips twitching. "Your informant was exaggerating."

Rachel took her hand back and played with the string on Quinn's scrub pants.

"I can't believe you were attacked." She muttered.

Quinn chuckled and ducked to catch her eyes. "I wasn't attacked. I'm never going to put myself in a position to be attacked."

"I don't want you to get hurt." Rachel put a hand on Quinn's bump. "Or baby."

Quinn brushed the dark hair out of Rachel's eyes.

"Maybe you could start taking time off soon." Rachel suggested sheepishly. "I know you're only twelve weeks along, but-"

"Rachel." Quinn interrupted. "No, babe. I've been here for less than a year. I can't take time off until I _need_ it. At least a few more months."

Rachel exhaled sharply, frustrated. "Then _tell _me when sea lions hit you."

Quinn bit her cheek.

"Tell me, _please_, and I won't fret, or go crazy, or do whatever you expected me do."

"I didn't want to worry you." Quinn leaned sideways into the wall and watched Rachel's small fingers mess with her pants.

"I just want to give you ice, and maybe some Band-Aids, and make you cookies, and make you feel better." Rachel stated. "And if you refuse to take time off-"

"You really can't expect me to do that." Quinn remarked, smiling slightly. "Rachel, if you were carrying this baby, I would have to drag you off stage just so you could give birth."

Rachel narrowed her eyes and dropped Quinn's pants string.

"I am not so unreasonable, Quinn."

"I thought you were going to punch me when I walked out here."

Rachel turned to look through the glass so that Quinn wouldn't see her smile. Quinn stepped closer and put her hands on Rachel's hips.

"I come home every single day. I'm safe." She assured. She shifted her hands to pull the fuzzy mittens out of Rachel's jacket pockets, and then she put them on and tapped Rachel's nose.

Rachel snorted a laugh. "You just had your hands in a tiger's mouth. And those are too small for you."

Quinn squeezed Rachel's cheeks together. "Would you like to see the polar bears, behind the scenes?" she asked with a smile. "You can check all of our safety equipment firsthand."

Of course Rachel did. What better way to spend Christmas?

~ooooooooooooo~

Blaine and Kurt's wedding took place at the Loeb Boathouse in Central Park. French doors and a deck overlooking the water- frozen now, but not strong enough for ice skating- gave Blaine his outdoor wedding, and quelled Kurt's fears about swarms of locusts and back-country wildlife.

Rachel stood near Kurt, sandwiched between Puck and Santana, and stared across the aisle at Quinn. They all wore mid-length royal blue dresses which matched Blaine's bow-tie and Kurt's vest, and they held bouquets of white flowers infested with some kind of insect, which Rachel kept flicking towards Santana.

Santana couldn't protest out loud because Kurt had already threatened to throw her out of the wedding for telling the ring-bearer that it was safe to go sliding on the thin ice.

Blaine's little cousin hadn't been stupid enough to believe her.

Santana flicked the bugs on her own bouquet right back at Rachel.

The room was quiet while Blaine and Kurt put the rings on each other's fingers. Rachel looked down at her own gold band and smiled smugly because no wedding could beat hers. Mostly because of who she married.

"Oh my God."

Rachel head shot up at Quinn's voice, murmured but audible in the empty room. Quinn's eyes were wide and focused on the floor, a hand on her belly, flowers off to the side.

Rachel almost lunged across the altar.

Blaine and Kurt had only faltered for a second, eyeing Quinn before finishing with their rings, and Quinn flushed to her ears when she realized that everybody was looking at her.

Rachel telepathically tried to get her attention across the aisle, frantically widening her eyes and humming like Quinn would be able to pick up a frequency that nobody else could.

Santana looked at her like she was ridiculous. "You're gonna give yourself an aneurysm." She muttered into Rachel's ear.

Rachel ignored her. What if Quinn was having the baby? At fifteen weeks, and Rachel would have to deliver her premature child on the altar of the Anderson-Hummel wedding.

Brittany elbowed Quinn and Quinn finally looked up and caught Rachel's eye, a little taken aback by her urgent, intense, soul-piercing expression.

Rachel mouthed, _Are you okay?_

Quinn nodded and moved her lips, but it was too complicated for Rachel to read. She shook her head, and Quinn pointed at her belly and then made a motion with her hands that Rachel didn't understand. She glanced at Santana to find that she was watching Quinn with the same expression of _what the fuck_.

Quinn frowned at them. _It moved_, she mouthed, enunciating carefully and tapping her belly again.

Rachel gasped, drawing the attention of Kurt, who eyed Santana suspiciously. Santana didn't notice because she was occupied with preventing Rachel from diving across the aisle to her little _moving_ baby.

Quinn held her hand up to say _stop yourself_. Rachel complied.

She waited for the end of the vows and cried when Blaine kissed Kurt, and then spun him, dipped him, and kissed him again. She cheered when they turned to walk back down the aisle, shoved away the insect bouquet Santana was shaking in her face, and made it to Quinn in two short strides.

"You felt it move?!" She questioned, far too loudly because she'd been holding it in so long.

Quinn grinned and nodded, bending forward a little so that Rachel wouldn't feel the need to yell.

"But it's-I want to feel!" Rachel declared, reaching a hand out. "It's not kicking, right?"

Santana popped up at her side. "It'll kick _you_ if it has any sense."

"It's not kicking anybody." Quinn held her small bump protectively. "It just-I felt it move. Like a flutter."

"So you interrupted the ceremony to let everybody know."

"Santana, she didn't _interrupt_-"

"Maybe you imagined it." Brittany offered helpfully. She watched a bug crawl up her arm, obviously having decided that they were harmless. "Or maybe it's trying to climb out of you."

Quinn stared at her and then caught Rachel's eye. "I didn't imagine it."

Rachel stepped forward and blocked out Santana, who gasped in horror at the insects on Brittany's forearm.

"It moved, Rachel. Twice. I know what I felt." Quinn defended. "It was a surprise. I didn't-I didn't mean to _say_ anything. That was…spontaneous and out of my control."

Rachel smiled and tapped the bump, and then rested her hand there. "Baby's playing games. Just like mommy."

"I said _spontaneous_ and _out of control_." Quinn repeated with a straight face. "That's you."

Rachel wasn't offended in the least.

"But the _baby_ was rolling around at a wedding." She countered mirthfully. "Dancing. Having fun. Probably feeling around in the dark for cookies and cake."

Quinn bit her tongue. Rachel watched her eyes, grinning expectantly because she knew _exactly_ what was coming.

"Do you know if Kurt and Blaine are having cookies at the reception?"

Rachel took her hand and started following the crowd out of the wedding hall. "All kinds. Mostly because of you, Kurt told me."

Quinn looked pleased.

"Bear, there's a baby in there." Rachel said after a moment, hand back on Quinn's bump. "Moving around."

Quinn chuckled softly. "I know there is."

Rachel nodded. "It likes Jell-O and onions and games."

"Are you keeping track?"

"I'm going to be prepared when he or she enters the world."

"With Jell-O and onions and games." Quinn clarified, watching Rachel fondly.

"That baby is going to love me." Rachel informed seriously.

Quinn pulled her off to the side where they could see Kurt and Blaine having flowers and snow thrown at them outside the building. Santana and Puck were throwing snowballs.

"It's coming out of me, little bear. It's basically designed to love you."

Rachel flushed and stood on her tiptoes and kissed Quinn. She'd still use Jell-O and onions and games to whatever advantage she could.

Quinn tilted forward a second later, off in her own head. "Can we build a snowman now?" she whispered.

Yes. Yes they could. Multiple, even. One with a bow-tie, one with a blue vest. One with angry eyes and branches for claws, next to one adorned with flowers and a snow duck. And then a comically small one, out of a single ball, next to one with yellow straw for hair and a wide smile.

And a small bump under the pebble buttons.


	24. Chapter 24

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 24: Like Starlight Crashing through the Room**

"We're surrounded by idiots, Rachel. Why did you choose the most illegitimate hospital in New York?"

Rachel fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Quinn, stop."

"Why do they even put us in a room if we're just going to be waiting for another forty-five minutes? It's like a psychological test. They're playing mind games."

"They seem busy today." Rachel kept her tone mild.

Quinn scoffed like it was a preposterous idea.

"If we were lions, we could maul them all. Lions wouldn't stand for this."

Quinn seemed to be drifting further and further away from civilized society. Rachel stood by the wall in the exam room and watched her warily, ready to intervene and reel her back and act as a buffer for the doctor.

Quinn sighed heavily, employing some vocal cords so that it filled the room.

"Baby, I know you're tired-"

"I'm a doctor. I can perform an ultrasound myself." Quinn completely ignored Rachel. "Probably better than these people. These _morons_-"

"_Quinn__._ Stop, honey."

Quinn exhaled sharply out of her nose and twisted onto her side in the exam chair.

Rachel stepped forward and crouched down in front of her, watching her cautiously. Quinn hadn't been able to sleep. For a couple weeks, she'd been getting less than five hours a night. She'd toss and turn and steal all the blankets, accidentally knock Rachel in the shin or a dog in the face, and then whine in frustration, slide out of bed, and walk around until Rachel dragged her back to their room.

Her legs hurt. They tingled, and her ankles were starting to swell, and there seemed to be no such thing as a comfortable position. A tired Quinn was a grumpy Quinn. A grumpy Quinn was always surrounded by idiots.

"We'll have a nap when we get home, okay?" Rachel murmured.

Quinn clenched her jaw.

"Cocoa and marshmallows and _Chitty Chitty Bang Bang_. It's Sunday tomorrow. Plenty of time to catch up on sleep."

Quinn shut her eyes and rolled so that her face was pressed into the chair. Rachel smiled sadly and ran a hand through her hair.

"And lions wouldn't be sitting in a doctor's office, bear."

"Lions have better things to do." Quinn's voice was muffled and miserable. "I'm having a bothering sort of day."

Rachel chuckled softly.

The doctor strode abruptly into the room, and Quinn sat up dizzyingly fast. She had a sheet of vitamin supplements in her hand from their last visit, and she held it up with a sleepy-eyed scowl, eyes fixed on Dr. Clarke's collar.

"You don't need an apostrophe here." She said bluntly when she saw she had the doctor's attention.

Rachel opened her mouth, prepared to run interference.

"It's not possessive or contractive." Quinn continued sharply. "It's plural."

Dr. Clarke raised her eyebrows and glanced at Rachel, amused.

"And when you spell _effect_, like side effect, it's with an E, not an A." Quinn's eyes dropped to the floor. "Did you-did you not take English composition classes in undergrad? Basic grammar in high school? It's not that-"

"How are you, Dr. Clarke?" Rachel asked loudly, trying to drown out the last of Quinn's sentence.

Dr. Clarke smiled wryly. "Very well, thank you, Rachel." She turned to Quinn and ducked until Quinn was forced to meet her eyes. "A nurse actually wrote that out, Quinn. I'm sure they were just in a hurry."

Quinn puffed out her cheeks and nodded shortly.

Rachel stood next to her head and brushed the blonde hair out of her eyes.

"How have you been sleeping, Quinn?"

"Not very well." Quinn said quietly, smiling slightly when Rachel tugged on her ears.

"Insomnia is actually very common with pregnancy. Have you found anything that helps you fall asleep?"

Quinn shook her head, eyes closed.

"She's tried hot baths before bed, slow music, white noise, specialty pillows and different pajamas, and none of that works." Rachel described. Quinn seemed to be falling asleep. "I try to feed her in the middle of the night though. That helps. Bananas and Jell-O, usually. Then she'll fall right back to sleep."

Dr. Clarke smiled. "Well, there's your cure right there."

Rachel hummed vaguely. "She's just…_uncooperative_ in the middle of the night."

"Quinn, if it helps you sleep, you should have no qualms about eating at odd hours."

Quinn said nothing, and Rachel knew she was just choosing to ignore this because she wasn't _actually_ asleep yet. Rachel smiled apologetically at the doctor.

"Let's see what you're expecting." Dr. Clarke continued easily, sliding over to the ultrasound machine. "A little boy or a little girl."

Quinn opened her eyes at that, glazed and a little red, and Rachel leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"It's like when Pooh tries counting Heffalumps to fall asleep." Quinn drawled, and Rachel wasn't even sure if she was completely awake. "It's supposed to bore the mind to sleep, but all he saw were Heffalumps heading straight for his pots of honey."

Rachel bit her tongue.

"And then Pooh reached the five hundred and eighty-seventh Heffalump, and the Heffalump was saying how good the honey tasted, and how could Pooh possibly sleep when that's all he could think about?"

Quinn was going around some kind of bend of exhaustion. Doctor Clarke smiled fondly, and Rachel helped her lift up Quinn's shirt, marveling at the growing bump, like always. Quinn shook her head for a moment and tried to focus.

"I don't count Heffalumps. Maybe I'll eat more Jell-O."

"That sounds like a _great_ idea." Dr. Clarke approved, grinning.

It only took her a minute to find the baby, and she looked at Rachel and Quinn with a pleased smile. Rachel's heart sped up. This was a landmark moment. She bent over a little to hold Quinn's gaze, making sure she was fully awake.

"Say something intelligent, bear." She whispered. "We can't let this go by and have you forget it all."

Quinn frowned. "I'm awake."

"You've spoken a lot of nonsense today."

Dr. Clarke looked amused.

"I'm fully awake, Rachel. I promise."

Rachel quirked an eyebrow.

"You know that lion-tailed macaque that came in last weekend?" Quinn questioned, eyes brighter. "Well, he's presented with acute bilateral pelvic limb paralysis. I'm performing an extradural hemilaminectomy tomorrow to-"

"Okay, I believe you." Rachel cut her off with a laugh.

Quinn looked pleased. She let Rachel take her hand and met Dr. Clarke's gaze with clear eyes.

"Are you ready?" Dr. Clarke checked, smiling excitedly.

Rachel nodded. She took a deep breath and Quinn squeezed her fingers.

"Quinn, Rachel…You're having a baby boy."

Rachel squealed. She would've squealed with anything that came out of the doctor's mouth. If she'd said girl instead of boy. If she'd said alien. Puppy. Tomato. Rachel was incredibly excited.

Quinn's smile was wide. She laughed lowly and pulled Rachel down by her sweater to kiss her face, her cheeks, her lips. It was the best way to contain Rachel's noises, and Rachel just pressed her nose into Quinn's hair and tried not to shriek.

A little baby boy.

Their little baby boy.

~ooooooooooo~

Rachel watched Brittany cartwheel off the diving board and wondered if she should attempt it herself. She'd probably slip and break her neck. Land on her pregnant wife. Break her pregnant wife's neck. Rachel really didn't need to be attempting aquatic acrobatics. She swam away from Brittany's splash and stood next to Santana in the shallow end.

Santana was watching Sam determinedly trying to mount an inflatable shark. Rachel had no idea where he obtained all of his inflatable animals.

"Call him something food-related." Santana suggested when Quinn's head emerged from underwater. "It'll have positive connotations, so you'll always love him."

Rachel snorted incredulously. "We'll always love him anyway, _Santana_."

"More so if he's named Taquito. Or Burrito."

"Nachos." Sam drawled, draped over the shark. "Nachos and cheese."

Santana nodded, delighted. "Alfredo, Bacon, Pepper. All viable names."

Quinn swam around Sam and caught Rachel's eye. Her blonde hair was slicked in all the wrong directions and her eyes were reddened from chlorine. "I don't…really like that idea." She said quietly.

Rachel smiled at her. "Me neither, baby."

"Good!" Sam declared breathlessly, clinging to the shark's dorsal fin. "Cause I'm naming my kid Nacho. No stealing it."

"I think you're safe."

"I like Christopher Robin." Quinn stated abruptly, sloshing over to Rachel and then dropping down so that only her head was above the water.

Santana laughed loudly, and it echoed through the room. "Why not just go for it, Quinn? Winnie the Pooh. Or Tigger."

Quinn frowned and played with the string on Rachel's bikini bottoms, knotting it repeatedly. Sam rolled purposely off the shark and swung it in Santana's direction, and Brittany's booming laughter drifted over from the deep end of the pool.

Rachel glanced down for a moment to make sure that Quinn wasn't trying to strip her in public.

"I like Robin, bear. Maybe not Christopher."

Quinn struggled with the knot she'd just made. Rachel would be locked into her bikini bottoms for hours.

"Okay. Maybe…Edward? Tucker, Richard, John." Quinn listed. Rachel briefly wondered if she was just reeling off Robin Hood's merry men. "James, Toby, Alexander…"

Rachel fixed Quinn's hair thoughtfully. "They could be kings."

"He needs a strong name."

"They're better than anything Berry would come up with." Santana had apparently incapacitated Sam and decided that she wasn't finished with the conversation yet. "Javert, Zoltan, Agustin, Fosco-"

"You're just listing unfortunately named musical characters, Santana." Rachel huffed. She settled lower into the water so that she was at the same level with Quinn. And so that Quinn couldn't make the knots in her bikini bottoms any worse.

Sam floated on his back with his legs wrapped around the shark. "Nacho Zoltan Evans." He mused, fascinated.

"Burrito Fosco Lopez." Brittany happily joined the conversation, and Santana's grin faded when she realized what she'd done.

Quinn laughed loudly at her, and then trailed off at Santana's glare.

Rachel gripped Quinn's ears because their friends were ridiculous and there was nobody else who needed to be part of this conversation. "King John. King James." She tested them out loud, pleased with Quinn's idea to give their baby a powerful title.

A nice step out into the world. A good head start. Supreme ruler of the universe Alexander Berry-Fabray.

"Baby Jimbo." Quinn said softly, rubbing at her reddened eyes.

"We're not naming our baby Burrito, Brit!" Santana screeched. "You've got oxygen deprivation from jumping off the diving board over and over!"

Sam gasped. "Nacho Fosco!"

Rachel had lost control of the situation entirely.

Quinn rubbed at her eyes again, and Rachel gently intercepted her hand and pulled it away. "You'll make them worse, Quinn."

"My legs feel better."

"That's great!" Rachel enthused.

Quinn stood up straight. "Like hippo legs."

Sam snorted, paddling his way over on the shark.

"And if you like…_Javert_, or Agustin, or anything else, that's okay." Quinn continued obliviously. "We can-I don't think they're stupid. We can consider them."

If Quinn wasn't careful, their son would be called Barbra Streisand.

"And I also like Nacho Fosco." Quinn added.

"Hey, no!" Sam pointed the shark in Quinn's direction and kicked his way towards her. He knocked his toe on the concrete and an elbow in Brittany's head, and the shark was half underwater because really it was made for _children_, and Quinn laughed delightedly at his struggle.

King baby Jimbo. Borne of inflatable sharks. Lord of the water, ruler of the seas.

Quinn had probably gotten enough water in her eyes by now to chlorinate her blood. Turn him into a dolphin.

Santana was slowly explaining to Brittany why Bacon wasn't an acceptable name for their nonexistent baby, and Quinn was smiling so widely at Sam that she was choking on the water sloshing into her mouth.

And Rachel was one of them, so she seized Sam's ankles to rescue her wife.

~ooooooooooooo~

As soon as Rachel saw the sign for the "Meet a Greyhound" event at the pet store on the corner, she knew she'd end up inside. Quinn hadn't caught sight of it yet, too focused on untying the knots in the tassels of her scarf and preventing Barnaby from dragging them into the donut shop on the corner, so Rachel walked faster and looked for a distraction.

She pointed randomly in the opposite direction. "Hey bear, did you see that new-"

Barnaby abruptly forgot about the donut shop and charged toward the pet store instead, knocking into Rachel's legs. Rachel clutched a light pole with one hand and Barnaby's collar with the other.

She gave up. It was only a matter of time.

Quinn regained control of their dog, searched Rachel for any signs of injury or distress, and then glanced across the street to see what Barnaby was so excited about. Rachel watched her hazel eyes process and then light up.

She sighed resignedly. Frustrated, exasperated. She was looking for a crosswalk before Quinn even said anything.

"Rachel, they're having a _Meet a Greyhound_ day at the pet store." Quinn's voice was low and excited. The leash turned her knuckles white.

"Are they?" Rachel asked brightly, like she hadn't known about it for the past ten minutes.

"Can we-" Quinn bit her lip and glanced across the street. "You know, the-the expendability of a racing greyhound is determined by its earnings?"

Rachel's eyes flickered across the road.

"They're not like horses. They're overbred and easily disposed of." Quinn flexed her fingers around Barnaby's leash and took a step towards the crosswalk. Rachel followed.

"It's not prestigious. It's not _royal_ or powerful or historic." Quinn's voice grew sharper. "They're not looking for the next Secretariat. It's barely even federally regulated. It's trash. _Awful._"

Rachel hummed vaguely and focused on preventing Quinn from being run over.

Quinn turned to look at her in the middle of the street, eyes blazing. "You know five thousand are killed a year? Puppies included." Quinn threw up her hands and laughed humorlessly. "Oh look, we made too many, let's just kill some off!"

Rachel winced. She grabbed Quinn's flailing hand and unwound Barnaby's leash.

"Most of it's in Florida." Quinn was off on a tangent and Rachel waited for her to finish. "There was-I met-I met-there-" Quinn coughed and rubbed her hands against her thighs. "In-at Davis-I met a vet who'd treated dogs who tested positive for cocaine, multiple instances."

Rachel had wondered what it would be like to put a dog on drugs. It seemed like Cornelius was already there sometimes, demonic and high as a kite. But she'd never in a million years _do_ it.

"That's no good." Rachel murmured. They stood by a small crowd in the pet store, gathered around several greyhounds and other breeds up for adoption.

Quinn's shoulders sagged slightly. She turned to Rachel and lowered her voice. "There are three things which are majestic in pace, yes, four which are stately in walk. A lion, which is mighty among beasts and does not turn from any, a greyhound, a male goat also, and a king whose troops are with him."

Rachel didn't know what was happening. She blinked.

"Proverbs." Quinn said softly, eyes fixed to the back of Barnaby's head.

Rachel made a noise of realization.

"I don't know." Quinn finally said. "I'm not very-I don't know how objective I am." She shifted on her feet and smiled at the dogs she could see.

Rachel looked up at her seriously. "How…How are goats majestic in pace and stately in walk?"

All Rachel had seen them do was head-butt small children and play dead.

Quinn laughed. She led Rachel around the edge of the crowd, keeping her eyes down, one hand on her belly and Barnaby firmly at her side, and stopped next to two pens, one full of Corgis and one housing what looked like a king-sized Husky.

He was four feet tall, literally, from head to floor where he sat, and Rachel briefly wondered why they had a _bear_ penned up inside Petco.

A bear with bright blue eyes and a wiry mane and paws at least three times as big as Barnaby's. Barnaby was trying to climb into the Corgis' cage, too distracted to notice the beast on which Rachel was fixated.

"_Rachel_." Quinn said quietly, dragging it out. She pressed a hand to the pen and the dog sniffed it calmly.

"What-" Rachel was slightly unnerved. "Is that-that's domesticated?"

Quinn snorted a laugh.

"Seriously, is it on steroids, or-"

"He's a hybrid." Quinn informed. She traced the information sheet with her finger. "Snowman. A wolf hybrid."

Rachel's eyes widened.

Barnaby flung himself against the Corgi pen while Snowman watched him thoughtfully from his own cage. Rachel could hear his thoughts. _Dumb, tiny dog. Tiny, red dog_.

"They're fairly common." Quinn mused. She slipped her hand into Rachel's like she could sense her wife's anxiety. "I'd love to have one. A rescue, not to perpetuate the breed."

Rachel choked on her own spit. "What-you-we don't need a _wolf_ in our house with a baby, Quinn!"

Quinn looked amused. "This isn't Little Red Riding Hood, baby."

"Quinn, wolves-"

"Hybrids have Husky temperments. And they don't eat _infants_."

Rachel shook her head. "We're not getting a wolf."

"I don't want a _wolf_."

"Well, we're not getting _that_ either." Rachel nodded at Snowman. She had to admit his eyes were gorgeous. But if she came across him in the wild, she'd scream her face off and run in the opposite direction.

Not that it was likely Rachel would run into free-roaming feral wolves on her walk to Broadway in the morning.

Quinn grinned, pleased that she'd incited Rachel's "indignant" face. She spun around and pointed at the Corgis, halfway into the pen before Rachel could stop her.

"One of these, then!"

They were ridiculous. Short and energized, waddling and long and fluffy, and flipping out because Barnaby was playing with them. Rachel stepped reluctantly into the pen as well, if only to prevent the four enthusiastic Corgis from taking Quinn down.

Being buffeted around by clueless, fluffy dogs in a small pen was great for pregnant women.

Quinn dropped Barnaby's leash, bent down, and picked up one of the Corgis by wrapping her arms around his stomach. Rachel pressed a hand to her own forehead and glanced around.

"Look!" Quinn declared, shuffling up and pressing the dog's face against Rachel's chin. "He's lovely, right?"

Rachel scoffed and shoved them away. "His legs are three inches long."

"So are yours."

Rachel gasped.

Quinn laughed and stepped forward again, heaving the panting dog under one arm so that she could reach for Rachel with the other. Her hair fell in her eyes and there was a paw stuck in her scarf, and Rachel took pity and stood still for her hug.

"Your legs are longer than three inches, I think." Quinn murmured while Rachel untangled the claw from her scarf. "They're soft and splendid and delicious."

Rachel flushed and glanced around. Nobody heard, except the Corgis, who really looked too oblivious to do anything more than waddle and eat.

"They don't even look like they're sitting when they sit down." Rachel observed.

And they were so disproportionate. Rachel wondered what she'd look like if somebody chopped off her legs at her knees. Her eyes widened. What if people had legs that were only three inches long? What if they had giant, upright ears and fluffy tails?

What if Rachel became a Corgi?

She was interrupted by a crash. It was Quinn and Barnaby, because it was _always_ Quinn and Barnaby. Quinn had tripped backwards over the dog, and then over a Corgi, and caught herself by knocking sideways into a metal shelf on the other side of the pen.

"Oh my-_Quinn_!" Rachel shrieked, once she was over the 'Good _God_, why does this happen everywhere?' stage of mental processing.

The Corgis took it as their cue for playtime. Barnaby nipped at their faces and lured them away from Quinn.

"Oh ffff-shhhhoot. _Shoot_." Quinn muttered, pushing away from the shelf with Rachel's help. She sat down inside the pen and rubbed at her upper arm. "That was…Oh my God."

"How's your side? How's your-is the baby okay?" Rachel ran her hands quickly from Quinn's shoulders to her ribs to her waist, and then over the small bump. "What hurts, baby? I can call an ambulance. Do you need-Yeah, I'll do that."

"No. No, no, no, Rach." Quinn smiled wryly and shook her head. She noticed a small group gathering and dropped her eyes to Rachel's boots. "I'm okay."

Rachel didn't know if she should believe her.

Doctor Quinn Berry-Fabray, injured in a pen of violently enthusiastic Corgis.

"It was just my arm." Quinn said quietly. Rachel swatted away the inquisitive Corgis. "Just my arm and my ribs. Everything's fine."

Rachel's hammering heart slowed slightly.

"Well…_damn_ right it's fine." Rachel declared weakly. "Why are you always-you have to be more careful, baby. You can't-Oh my _God_, get off me!"

She spun around and yanked her sleeve and her scarf out of the mouths of the Corgis, and then surged forward with an exasperated sigh to help Quinn out of the pen.

"You're so-you always do things like this." Rachel muttered. "You need to stop, because I don't know what I'd do if something ever happened to you."

Quinn brushed herself off once she was free of the dogs. "I'm sorry." She said softly.

"Don't apologize."

"Do you want-what would you like for me to do?"

Rachel reached for Quinn's elbow and prodded it gently through her jacket. Quinn winced.

"Don't climb into pens full of animals." She requested obviously. "Even if they're the biggest, slowest turtles on the Earth. Please. No mingling with hordes of animals."

Giant turtles could probably gang up on Quinn, do the same thing the Corgis had.

Quinn nodded slightly.

Rachel looked up and caught her anxious eyes. "I didn't mean-I'm not trying to sound…" she trailed off. "I just love you. And I worry."

"I know."

"Do we need to get your elbow looked at?"

Quinn's lips twitched. "It's alright."

"I don't mean to…patronize." Rachel let Barnaby out of the pen and wrapped his leash around her hand.

"You're not, Rachel."

Rachel looked doubtful.

Quinn reached for her hand. "I was-I was almost just trampled by Corgis." She tapped the small of Rachel's back and followed her through the dwindling crowd. "I need to…think, maybe. First. Not in pictures."

Rachel shook her head firmly. "No. Always in pictures. Just don't leap into cages full of rambunctious Corgis." Rachel smiled slightly. "Everybody gets carried away."

Rachel had previously pondered climbing onto the back of Snowman and riding him around the pen.

Her default setting was like a perpetual state of "carried away." Off into the sunset without a backward glance.

"So…did you like any of them?" Quinn asked softly, walking along a line of cracks in the sidewalk when they were well away from the pet store.

"Any of what?"

"The Corgis."

Rachel snorted incredulously. She leaned sideways into Quinn, careful not to tangle up their legs as they walked, and Quinn hugged her close and waited seriously for her answer. Rachel just leaned up and kissed her cheek, and then started in on the knots at the end of Quinn's scarf.

Because she couldn't admit that she'd _loved_ those Corgis.

~ooooooooooooo~

Rachel rarely woke up in the middle of the night. She slept like she'd died, heavy and oblivious, until Quinn stole all the blankets or a cat strolled across her face. The loss of a warm body next to her was one of the few things that would wake Rachel up.

And she woke up _spectacularly_. Lost in another world, under the impression that she was being bombed or burgled or chased, or winning another Tony, traveling through time, singlehandedly rowing a wooden boat to an unnamed island.

It usually took Rachel about five minutes to get her bearings again. Even then, she was barely functional.

Which is why she stared at the ceiling for ten minutes at two in the morning before realizing that Quinn was _gone_, and her space was cold, and Rachel should probably try to find her.

She shoved off whatever animal was sleeping on her legs, wordlessly, because she couldn't remember its name or recognize if it was a dog or cat or manatee, and she stumbled in a few dark, confused circles before grabbing a sweatshirt off the back of a chair and heading for the bedroom door.

"Move, Butter." Rachel mumbled to a pair of boots that lay in the hallway before stepping over them.

She caught her shoulder on a picture frame and reacted like she'd been electrocuted to prevent it from crashing to the floor. It was unnecessary, and all she really did was slam herself against the wall, but it forced her eyes open and her blood flowing.

As much as anybody's blood could flow at such an ungodly hour.

Quinn was lying on the couch with Fuzzy, Rachel's lion, hugged to her chest and Cloud under the coffee table. A large, white blob illuminated by the moon. Quinn was crying, and Rachel paused to make sure this was real life-and she was wasn't going to fall through a volcano or come upon candyland- before hurrying across the room, concerned.

Quinn sniffed loudly, and her nose whistled as Rachel kneeled in front of the couch.

"_Quinn_." Her voice was about three octaves lower than normal, and she cleared her throat to sound like a human again. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Quinn clumsily patted down Fuzzy's mane so that she could see Rachel's face.

"Do you feel sick?" Rachel asked softly.

There were three empty Jell-O cups on the coffee table. That could go either way. Rachel rubbed Quinn's arm and kissed her forehead to discreetly check her temperature.

"I can't-I'm so _tired_." Quinn whispered. She sounded desperate and _exhausted_, and her hair was static-y like she'd been rolling around for hours.

"Oh, _baby_." Rachel frowned. She leaned closer and swept a thumb under Quinn's eye, and Quinn sniffled and coughed, and then rolled a bit in frustration.

"I got-want-I want to go to _sleep_."

Quinn slurred and tossed again, and Rachel realized that she was probably half asleep already. On the near side of the line, where real life happens in dream world and nothing makes sense, so everything is upsetting.

"Bear, close your eyes, okay? Just sleep, baby." Rachel stroked her hair soothingly.

Quinn released a noise between a whine and a groan.

Rachel shifted forward until she was inches from Quinn's face. "Do you want to come back to bed? It's comfier."

Quinn shook her head violently. "I'm not-if I get-I can't leave here. I can't go."

She definitely wasn't fully awake. Rachel wondered how to push her the rest of the way over the edge.

"Let me make you some oatmeal, baby. Does that sound good?"

Quinn scrunched up her face, which was ridiculous because Rachel knew she _loved_ cinnamon oatmeal with dinosaur eggs.

"How about some cocoa?" she tried again, still stroking Quinn's hair.

Quinn swallowed thickly. Rachel could see her breathing evening out.

"Can I-with those-with-can you put-"

"Peppermint Pattie?" Rachel guessed, smiling slightly.

Quinn nodded shortly. "Prepper-peppermint."

Rachel stood slowly, aware that her back and legs should _not_ be making these noises. She groaned, and Quinn reached out and hooked a hand around her knee.

"_Baaaby_, I'm need-I'm so tired."

Rachel checked to make sure her knees still bent the right way. She hoped this insomnia would fade soon. "I know, bear." She whispered and kissed Quinn's head and shuffled into the kitchen. She made cocoa with extra milk, and then dropped a mini Peppermint Pattie into the mug and topped it with Reddi Whip.

It could knock out a bear.

Quinn was quiet when Rachel crept back into the living room. She was breathing evenly, but her eyes were still open, and Rachel really had no idea what state of slumber she was in. Wide awake? Sleeping with her eyes open?

"Quinn." She whispered, perching herself lightly on the coffee table.

Quinn's eyes flickered up to her. "Thank you." She murmured.

Rachel held the mug, unsure of how to do this. Just dump it into her mouth?

Quinn smiled wryly, tiredly, face still stained with tears and lines from the couch. "Roll me like a hippo." She suggested quietly.

Rachel snorted. "I don't know what that means, honey."

Quinn rubbed at her cheeks. "I'm huge, like a hippo, so-so roll me so that I can sit up."

"You're not huge." Rachel muttered, helping Quinn prop herself on the armrest.

"Yes I am."

"_No_, you're not." Rachel insisted. She sat back on the coffee table and watched Quinn pick the chocolate out of her drink. "You're beautiful, and you have a person inside of you. Of course you've grown."

"I'm a hippo."

Rachel squinted at her. "Are you awake, baby?"

Quinn nodded sadly, chewing with her cheeks puffed out, like she was too tired to put any real effort into it. Rachel rested her hands on Quinn's knees and squeezed.

"I'll call the zoo. You don't need to go to work like this."

Quinn looked like she wanted to protest, but she was too busy sucking the whipped cream off the top of her drink.

"Would you like some?" she asked instead, holding the mug out for Rachel. "There's no…um, eggs. Or meat."

It was definitely two a.m.

Rachel smiled. "I put real milk in there."

Quinn hummed. "You forgot the Peppermint Pattie."

"You ate it, baby."

Rachel was starting to realize that Quinn hadn't been fully awake for any of this whole nighttime exchange. She smiled fondly and waited for Quinn to drink all of her cocoa, listening to Cloud's tail thump rhythmically against the coffee table leg.

When Quinn finished, her hazel eyes were droopy and delirious, and Rachel helped her back to the bedroom, managing to trip over the boots in the hallway she'd previously mistaken for Butter.

Quinn fell asleep immediately. Rachel took the mug to the kitchen and called the zoo's veterinary voicemail, letting them know that Quinn wouldn't be in tomorrow.

She put Peppermint Patties on the grocery list because she'd probably be doing this again tomorrow night. She wrote it right under "Previcox and/or anti-inflammatories/NSAIDS for Charizard," staring at that line for a minute because it sounded serious and she hoped he wasn't _dying_.

There was an elephant further up on the list, next to a note that said "Buy blue jellybeans for Rachel." There was a heart by Rachel's name.

She smiled and threw out Quinn's Jell-O cups and joined her wife in bed.


	25. Chapter 25

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 25: Let Me Know, Are You Ready for Me?**

The Lamaze classes were Rachel's idea. She didn't know what "Lamaze" meant, or who it was, or what actually happened during those classes-and really, they could be some kind of cult-but she knew pregnant women took them and appreciated them, so they couldn't be a _complete_ waste of money.

Signing up had seemed like a good idea at the time.

But Rachel's ideas to walk Benjamin Bunny through Central Park and to buy industrial cases of blue Jell-O had also been good ideas at the time. Benjamin developed an agoraphobic complex and Quinn spent a night vomiting up blue in the bathroom.

The goal of Lamaze, as it turned out, was to increase a mother's confidence in her ability to give birth. Quinn was finally taking time off work, and Rachel suspected she'd only agreed to take the classes out of boredom.

"People have been having babies for thousands of years without needing instruction." Quinn had declared, arms draped over Rachel's shoulders to peer at the computer.

"But it might help!" Rachel argued. "It could be fun!"

Quinn rocked the chair back and forth. "It's probably a waste of money."

Rachel's face had fallen, a bit exaggeratedly because she knew exactly how to press the right buttons, and Quinn had sighed softly and tilted sideways to kiss her ear.

"We can do it if you'd like, little bear."

Like Play-Doh in her hands.

Which is why Rachel had nobody to blame but herself when she was seated on a rubber mat on the floor of the YMCA, trying to convince Quinn to continue the breathing exercises and listening to their instructor demonstrate a technique that sounded like it would be more likely to incite respiratory failure than to assist in childbirth.

And Rachel had been consciously working on her breathing technique since she was two. She knew what she was talking about.

She sighed and rocked forward on her knees to see Quinn's scowling, flushed face. "Just a few more minutes, baby." She pleaded. "One deep breath in, and then four short-"

"No, Rachel." Quinn sat solidly on the floor, legs crossed, finished with pretending to be in labor.

Rachel heard a screech from the other side of the room, and she turned to find that it was just one of the other couples completing the exercise. Some of their behavior was so obscene that Rachel was totally prepared for one of them to accidentally give birth.

It was a loud, interactive environment, and Rachel knew that Quinn was uncomfortable. The room was large, but warm, and the mats smelled like rubber and the air smelled like chlorine.

"I'll keep doing it with you, bear." Rachel suggested, and then demonstrated, pressing her hands to her diaphragm for extra effect.

This breathing technique was actually new to her, and she found herself running out of oxygen quickly. She was choking on air when their instructor popped up.

"Let's see your breathing, Quinn!" the peppy woman named Miranda suggested brightly.

Quinn shook her head and dropped her eyes to Rachel's boots.

"I think we're still…_working_ on it." Rachel said quickly, glancing over her shoulder in bewilderment when a desperate scream sounded from another couple.

Miranda nodded. "Sure, sure! Just remember, panic breathing cuts down the amount of ox-"

"Practicing _breathing_ is a waste of time." Quinn blurted. She shifted her legs and shook her head. "I-sorry. I don't-it's part of the autonomic nervous system, right. I can practice all I want, but once-once the baby comes, it'll-it's all adrenergic and out of my control."

Miranda crouched down. Rachel rested a hand on Quinn's thigh when she stiffened and tried to contextually derive the meaning of _adrenergic_.

"Particular breathing techniques have actually been proven to help, Quinn."

Quinn didn't say anything, and Rachel narrowed her eyes because her wife looked more worried than annoyed. More anxious than "_God_, I'm surrounded by idiots."

"Would you like to try again?" Miranda asked encouragingly.

Quinn twisted slightly so that she could meet Rachel's gaze without catching anybody else's. "Humans have the hardest birthing process in the animal kingdom."

Rachel nodded slowly.

"I-this baby's _head_…" Quinn trailed off. She looked stricken with whatever direction she was heading, and she shook her hair around and tapped her foot against the mat.

"Baby, tell me what's wrong." Rachel whispered.

Quinn exhaled in frustration and rubbed a hand against her forehead. "I-I work with animal dystocia." She started loudly. "Complications in birth. Not-not every day, not very often at all because they're primed to be wild. To have their babies in-" Quinn waved an arm around. "-I don't know, the middle of a field."

Rachel pictured Quinn having their baby in the middle of a field. Her eyes widened, intrigued, and then horrified, and she shoved that thought away.

"But _people_ have so many things that can go wrong, and I'm not-" Quinn sighed hopelessly. "And breathing in a certain way-I mean-it doesn't make their heads any smaller."

Rachel _almost_ smiled at that. She flashed back to a conversation she'd had over breakfast a couple years ago, when Quinn was mixing chocolate pudding with Rice Krispies and rumbling on about elephants.

Rachel tilted her head conversationally and poked Quinn's thigh. "Hey, bear. Look at me."

Quinn complied, hazel eyes distressed.

"Did you know elephants carry their babies for almost two years?"

Quinn stared.

"The birth can drag on for two nights." Rachel continued like she was providing brand new information. Quinn's chin lifted suspiciously. "And then the baby weighs around two hundred and fifty pounds. That's a big head, Quinn."

Quinn rubbed at her eyes. "Compared to elephantine birth canals, it's not really that-"

"Quinn, our baby's fingers will be this big." Rachel held up her hand with about an inch between her index finger and thumb.

"I will be there with you, holding your hand, feeding you ice, squeezing or crying or screaming or breathing, or doing whatever in the world you would like me to do, the _whole_ time."

Rachel was pretty much expecting herself to pass out at some point, but at least she'd be _present_.

"Your body will get you through this." Rachel assumed. "Humans were wild once too, you know."

Quinn scoffed lightly and Rachel smiled.

Tarzan was wild. The Thornberrys were insane. The rest were just uncivilized at the time.

"What if I can't…It's going to _hurt_." Quinn remarked quietly.

Rachel tilted forward and grasped her ears because Quinn's eyes wouldn't stay in one place. "Babies are born every day, Quinn. You'll-_we'll_- get through this."

"You have to be there, Rachel. There's-I won't be able to do it if you're not there."

Rachel inhaled deeply. "Quinn, do you know who I am?"

Quinn's brows furrowed slightly in confusion.

"Who am I, baby?" Rachel asked again, tugging on Quinn's ears.

"You're…what? You're Rachel."

Rachel nodded. "Who else am I?"

Quinn's look of confusion was morphing into one that said Rachel was acting like a moron.

"Humor me." Rachel pressed, eager to get to her point.

Quinn's lips twitched. "You are Rachel Barbra Berry-Fabray." She indulged. "You're small, odd, and scrappy. You steal my socks and get inordinately angry when I don't wear any because you're hot-blooded like a Latin dancer and you call me an iguana. You-"

"_Quinn_." Rachel didn't know how she'd lost control of the situation.

Quinn smiled softly, amused. "You're my little bear."

And Rachel completely forgot what her point was. Quinn twisted her head and knocked Rachel's hands off her ears. She was Rachel Barbra Berry, and how in the world could anybody ever doubt that _Rachel Barbra Berry_ would be at the birth of her child?

"Of course I'll be there." She promised simply.

If somebody chopped off her legs on the other side of town, in the rain in gridlock traffic, Rachel would drag herself through the streets to get to Quinn. It would be dramatic and wonderful.

Quinn struggled to lean forward to kiss Rachel, digging her fingers into Rachel's thighs to keep her balance.

"Why do you taste like chocolate?" Rachel wondered, wholly unsurprised. She hadn't _seen_ any chocolate, but it was probably running through Quinn's blood by now.

Quinn's eyes widened slightly. "I don't know."

"You don't know."

Quinn bit her tongue and focused on the rubber mat.

Rachel's lips quirked. "And you're not concerned at all that you taste like chocolate when you haven't actually had any."

Quinn puffed out her cheeks and dug her hands into her sweatpant pockets.

It's not like chocolate had been _banned_; they'd just cut back a little. Less Hershey's, more carrots. Anything that wasn't blue Jell-O.

"I bet it's in your pocket, bear." Rachel sat up on her knees and tried to reach over Quinn's lap, and Quinn laughed and pressed a hand to her chest to hold her away.

They'd have to practice their breathing exercises at home because absolutely nothing was getting done here.

"What is it?" Rachel prodded, trying to squirm her way across Quinn's knees without inverting them. "Do they have Easter eggs out already? Those mini Kit-Kats you like?"

Quinn rolled her eyes and stopped struggling, and Rachel plunged a hand into her pocket and emerged with a handful of Kisses. They were melting because of the fleecy pants, and Rachel studied them and raised an amused eyebrow at Quinn.

"Don't act like you haven't been smuggling coffee at your show, baby." Quinn defended.

Pssht. Well.

Rachel scoffed. She couldn't deny it. "I wasn't- I was _going_ to say we'll get you some more on the way home. Some that aren't melting."

Quinn's eyes sparkled. She looked pleased and she rubbed Rachel's thighs where her nails had dug in.

Miranda was having an exceedingly loud conversation off to their right about the benefits of giving birth standing up, like _gravity_, and Rachel pictured baby giraffes falling six feet to the ground when they're born. Like baby hippos stepping onto the shore for the first time.

A woman _having_ a baby for the first time. It had to be moderately frightening. So Rachel would make macaroni later, and help Quinn with these breathing exercises, and maybe try to catch baby carrots in her mouth because it always made Quinn laugh. Really, it was all that mattered.

~ooooooooooooo~

By the end of the second trimester, Rachel was realizing that pregnancy dazed Quinn. It made her almost delirious, like she was tired, except the insomnia had passed and left a small cloud of confusion and forgetfulness in its wake.

Rachel found Quinn's mittens in the freezer one morning and had to sit down on the kitchen floor she was laughing so hard.

So Rachel was the one attempting to assemble their brand new crib, because Quinn seemed to be losing her grasp on reality with each passing week and they didn't want the thing to _collapse_ with their baby inside. Rachel seemed to have run out of screws, and she was ready to call Puck because that leg was definitely not supposed to be _diagonal _to the others.

Cornelius and Barnaby kept stalking by, eyeing the slats of the crib. Ready to take them off her hands.

Rachel shoved the hardware away with a frustrated sigh and headed down the hall to what would soon be the nursery. She was smiling before she got there, because she could hear Quinn, and Quinn was singing "She's a Lady," and dancing-or _trying_ to dance-around the room with Cloud.

Cloud had pale green paint on his paws and tail, and Rachel was glad they'd thought to lay plastic over the hardwood floors.

Quinn spun around theatrically, caught sight of Rachel, dropped Cloud's paws, and increased her volume, deepening her voice because it was something that never failed to make Rachel laugh.

"_Well she's all you'd ever want, she's the kind they'd like to flaunt and take to dinner_." Quinn pointed at Rachel and danced her way over, disheveled and bright-eyed and wearing her reading glasses because she'd probably lost her contacts again.

Not that she needed glasses to be able to paint a dinosaur onto a nursery wall. Rachel would inquire about them later.

"_Whoa, whoa, whoa, she's a lady, talkin' about that little lady, and that lady is mine_."

Rachel shrieked when Quinn spun her around, because they were bound to end up in a can of paint, and she kicked her leg out to shut the door so that Cloud couldn't wander around the rest of the apartment. Quinn seemed to run out of words halfway through the song, so she hummed a few bars and then stilled and smiled expectantly down at Rachel.

Rachel laughed because she was just ridiculous. She reached up to straighten Quinn's glasses. "Working hard?"

Quinn hummed and nodded at the wall to their left. "I finished the dinosaur."

It was a pastel blue and yellow smiling stegosaurus that took up half the wall, and Rachel knew their little boy would love it.

"It's perfect, bear." She declared, leaning up to kiss the corner of Quinn's mouth. She rubbed at some green paint that Quinn had somehow managed to streak along her neck.

"I did the borders as well." Quinn pointed up at the wallpaper, the original E.H. Shepard Pooh Bear illustrations she'd insisted on because the modern Disney version was _not allowed in their house_. There was a poster of _Chitty Chitty Bang Bang_, and one of Cornelius and Barnaby in _Hello! Dolly_, and Rachel felt guilty because all she'd been doing was bumbling around with a crib that would surely collapse as soon as she stood it up.

"I'm doing the elephant next." Quinn stated, glancing around the room. "But Cloud fell in the paint so we stopped for a moment."

To dance and sing Tom Jones. Rachel's kind of logic.

She crossed the room and bent down to grab a wet cloth, and then called Cloud over to her so that she could clean off his paws and fluffy white tail before he became permanently green.

"Why are you wearing your glasses, baby?" Rachel wondered, craning her head away while Cloud snuffled her hair.

"I was reading the paint cans. And I think...I think my contacts are in the car."

Rachel smiled to herself. "You have no idea where they are, do you?"

Quinn crouched down, groaning a bit, and steadied herself with Rachel's knees. "They're in the car, Rachel."

"I bet if I go check the car right now I won't find them."

"I bet if I go check on the crib you're supposed to be building I'll find a mess with three legs and a pile of extra screws."

Rachel couldn't really counter that. She pursed her lips and focused on Cloud and squirmed away when Quinn tipped forward to kiss her neck. Quinn stood up again, and Rachel pushed helpfully on her butt to provide some leverage.

And then Quinn started humming "What's New, Pussycat?" and Rachel snorted and waited for Quinn to break fully into song.

Quinn spun lightly around in some kind of fouetté, and her hair fell over her eyes, and she was halfway through the first line when she froze and choked on her words and clutched her stomach.

Rachel fell sideways into the wall in her rush to stand up. "Quinn, what's-"

Quinn cut her off by seizing her wrist and placing Rachel's hand on her belly, under both of her own.

It was a light tapping Rachel could feel under her palm. More like a flutter. Warm and solid and _alive_, either dancing to Quinn's song or joining in on the ballet, and-oh _God_, their little boy was going to be a star!

Rachel pressed a hand over her mouth, and then shook her head and put it on Quinn's belly so that she could feel as much as possible. Quinn watched her with an awed smile.

"You got him to dance." Rachel mumbled tearfully.

Quinn chuckled. "He's very small. This is the hardest he's ever kicked."

"He's perfect."

"He's going to be like you." Quinn said softly, delighted with the idea. "Maybe he likes dancing."

Rachel slid her hands under Quinn's fleecy sweatshirt so that she could feel more closely. Quinn held her wrist gently and moved her hand to where it needed to be.

"It's probably your voice." Rachel murmured. "It's sweet and light and comforting."

Even if it was singing "What's New, Pussycat?" at the time.

Rachel bent over and kissed Quinn's belly. "Do you like your dinosaur, baby boy? Mommy and Cloud painted it for you."

Quinn laughed softly and ran a hand through Rachel's disheveled hair.

"We're getting everything ready for you." Rachel whispered. "I'm putting together a crib right now. It's not…_safe_ at the moment, but I promise it will be when you get here. We love you."

Rachel let Quinn's sweatshirt drop again, and then straightened up and hugged her wife and pressed her lips against her neck. She smelled like Peppermint Pattie cookies and leftover candy canes, and Rachel briefly wondered if their baby was under the impression that he was growing up in Candyland.

From Candyland to dinosaurs and pastels and Pooh Bear and a dog with green paws.

~ooooooooooo~

Quinn was waddling by week thirty-one. And out of her mind, like every odd part of her had been amplified. She wore wooly socks and her turkey sweater, and switched to full-time maternity leave and wrote down all of her thoughts in a blue leather journal for the book she was writing. She made Rachel's favorite foods for dinner, and vegan brownies, and she definitely confused a few ingredients multiple times, but Rachel still ate them.

And then Quinn would try them, and gag, and throw everything away, and feed Rachel vegan jellybeans and take her back to their bedroom because she was _perfect _for eating them anyway.

Quinn also slowed. She slept like a lion, sprawled out on the couch or the bed or the living room floor, in the sun, surrounded by various animals and abandoned food and books.

Rachel finished a show on a Thursday night in March and came home to find Quinn lying backwards on their bed, absolutely naked except for her stripy socks on the pillows. And Rachel wasn't surprised at all. Any opportunity.

Quinn tried to twist to see behind her, but rolling from her side onto her back was far too difficult, so she heaved a frustrated sigh and pressed the side of her face into the blanket.

Rachel smiled and loomed over her and bent down to kiss her forehead.

"Should I turn the air on, baby?" she asked softly.

Quinn blinked up at her and absently grasped one of Rachel's cheeks. "I can't get comfortable."

Rachel eyed Quinn's flushed body. "Are you too hot?" she tried again.

Quinn sighed. "I watched _Robin Hood_ today."

"_Quinn_, do you want me to turn the air conditioning on?" Rachel asked slowly, patiently, trying to keep a straight face.

"No, please. I watched Brob-Robin Hood today, Rachel."

Rachel rounded the bed and climbed on next to Quinn, trailing a hand lovingly over her belly and up between her breasts. Quinn shivered and pulled her closer.

"Which one, bear?" Rachel asked, because there were about five thousand Robin Hoods she knew of. She stroked Quinn's collarbone and writhed around slightly to pry her boots off with her feet.

"The real one." Quinn murmured, and Rachel hummed vaguely because that didn't help at all.

"With real people?"

"And rabbits."

Rachel studied Quinn's eyes, and they were hazy and tired, but awake. Maybe.

"You know…in his _Merry Adventures_, it says 'a cracked egg cannot be cured.'" Quinn reached down to the left and came up with a cookie, and Rachel wondered where the hell that had been hidden. Under the blankets?

"Like Humpty Dumpty." Quinn mumbled, crumbly lips against Rachel's cheek. "When he fell off the wall. And nobody could put him back together again."

If anybody ever questioned how Rachel got through eight shows a week on Broadway, how she danced and sang and greeted her fans and gave interviews and still had energy left, this was their answer.

It was bottled up laughter caused by Quinn, and it acted as a battery for Rachel.

"What are you talking about, bear?"

Quinn hummed. "I learned that today. I just-maybe Robin Hood knew the nursery rhyme. A cracked egg cannot be cured. Humpty Dumpty can't be mended. I don't know which came first."

"Oh, that's-"

"Can you touch me please, Rachel?"

Rachel's brow furrowed at the interruption, and she brushed Quinn's hair out of her eyes to be able to see them clearly.

"Can I-baby, I'm sorry, are you awake?" she finally checked, and Quinn nodded and rolled slightly to wrap her in a half-octopus trap. Her large belly prevented a full one.

"How was your show?" Quinn whispered.

Rachel almost laughed. She was having _such _a hard time with this conversation.

"Quinn, baby, how would you like me to touch you?" she asked instead, and she pressed her lips to the spot right under Quinn's jaw because she already had some idea of the answer.

"Do you think I'm-my boobs are too big, and I'm so…" Quinn looked down at her leg curled over Rachel. "Do you think I'm-I'm still…"

Rachel started discreetly stroking a thumb along the underside of Quinn's breast. "Still what, baby?"

"I had cookies and carrots after dinner." Quinn admitted quietly. "And then I stayed in this spot all evening. Like a _whale_, Rachel."

Rachel sat up and stripped off her scarf and coat because she could see where this was going.

"Big blue whales." Quinn drawled dazedly.

And then Rachel laid back down, with one leg between Quinn's, and put her mouth back on that spot on Quinn's neck. She traced Quinn's side and wondered how to tell her wife that her boobs could never be _too big_.

"You know what I thought when I first walked in here?" she whispered, voice a little thick.

Quinn shook her head, hands finding the belt loops of Rachel's pants.

"I thought _damn_." Rachel drawled honestly, finding the time fit for mild obscenity. "My wife is the _sexiest_ woman, and she's naked on our bed, and there's nothing I'd rather do than make love to her right now."

Quinn swallowed. "But you didn't."

Rachel smiled. She dragged her tongue down where she'd been nibbling on Quinn's neck. "You needed to tell me about Humpty Dumpty first."

And a load of other nonsense vaguely strung together.

"But-but now…" Quinn's eyes rolled a bit, and she pulled her fingers out of Rachel's belt loops and ran them up the back of her shirt instead.

"You are stunning. And glowing and merry and graceful." Rachel punctuated each word with a kiss to Quinn's collarbone. "So beautiful, baby."

"You are too." Quinn returned breathlessly. "I-I had cookies earlier."

Rachel dropped a hand and kneaded Quinn's thigh. "You already told me that, bear." She reminded gently.

Quinn arched her back, as much as a pregnant woman thirty-one weeks along _could_ arch her back. "Oh-that's-_oh_."

"Just relax, baby."

No Humpty Dumpty or Robin Hood or cookies or rabbits. No discomfort or exhaustion or fear or insecurity, because there was no way Quinn could _sleep_ through this. Just Rachel and her small hands and soft blouse and hair that smelled like apples.

On a bed of crumbs with Jelly watching from the corner of the room.

"Your boobs can never be too big." Rachel mumbled later, when they both laid there, curled up and warm and naked except for their socks, backwards on the bed with a blanket pulled over their heads.

"They can. Like…mastitis in cows."

Rachel toyed with stray strands of blonde hair. "You're not a cow."

Quinn hummed. "I watched Robin Hood today." she informed, _again_, squeezing Rachel tightly.

Rachel chuckled into her neck. "I know, bear."

"I like…King-King James Christopher Robin Hood Berry-Fabray."

She definitely wasn't _fully _asleep.

"King baby Jem." Rachel mused.

"And Humpty Dumpty." Quinn sighed like she'd finally said everything she ever needed to say.

Half of it made no sense at first, but baby Jem was due in nine weeks and Rachel was learning as she went. Never buy industrial cases of Jell-O. Never wander off by yourself in IKEA. Go with the flow where pregnant women are concerned, because Quinn's hormones would level back out soon enough.

Just be there. Make cookies. Dance a little, sing a little. _Never_ walk rabbits through Central Park.

Quinn squeezed Rachel closer and nuzzled into her dark hair.

Peppermint Patties and apples smelled wonderfully together.

~ooooooooooo~

Quinn insisted on attending at least a couple of Rachel's shows a week. She'd get up about eleven times to pee, and she fell asleep during the second act once, but she brought Rachel flowers every time and always struggled to her feet for a standing ovation.

It was the beginning of April, and Quinn was three weeks away from her due date, settled solidly and mildly uncomfortably into her front row seat because she _refused_ to begin bed rest so early. On stage, Cornelius was hiding in an armoire and Rachel was pressed up against its doors preparing to sing "Motherhood March."

Quinn loved the song because it was peppy and strong and let Rachel strut around the stage, but Rachel wasn't surprised when her wife left her seat in the middle of the first verse. It would be the second time within an hour, and Rachel sang the line "if you see him as he's trampling through the grapes of wrath" and kept an eye out for Quinn's return from the bathroom.

It came minutes later, at the start of "Dancing," and Rachel only caught a glimpse of Quinn before focusing on the song and stepping around the stage with Cornelius. Her voice was light and her movements graceful, and she spun Cornelius off for his verse and then cast her eyes to the audience.

Even in the dark, Quinn's golden hair stood out. But she was bent forward in her seat, eyes closed, and Rachel nearly missed the cue for her next line.

"Turn around, turn around, try floating through the air!" she sang brightly, one eye on her wife, masking everything going through her head.

She wondered if Quinn was asleep, doubled over like that, but she looked back and Quinn was sitting up, stiff and pained and anxious. One hand gripped her armrest and the other dug into her thigh.

Cornelius sang "My heart is about to burst, my head is about to pop," and Rachel added "my wife is about to have a baby" in her mind.

She caught Quinn's eye when the song ended, and Quinn lifted her chin. Rachel didn't know what _that_ meant, but it was dark and she was overheating because her dress was long and heavy,, and her massive hat was obstructing her view.

She hoped Quinn would meet her backstage before the second act.

Quinn left her seat during the last scene of Act 1, and the fact that Rachel was able to keep singing and configure her face to match Dolly's emotions was really a testament to her talent.

Mike met her in the wings when she hurried off the stage.

"I think Quinn's in labor." He informed, beaming and clutching his clipboard, and Rachel wanted to smack him because she _couldn't_ be in labor yet.

They still had three weeks to go. Rachel had a second act to get through. She was making spaghetti for dinner.

But she didn't say anything. She didn't even stop. She tore the hat from her head and the gloves from her hands and ran past their stage crew and an alcove of props, and everything passed in slow motion.

She was underwater. Had they weighted this dress down with _lead_?

Rachel rounded a corner, stepped on the hem of her dress, and knocked into the wall, landing awkwardly on the side of her foot so that pain shot up her leg and her back until she felt nauseous.

It was a fantastic start.

"Shit, shit, _shit_." She mumbled, slowing considerably to hobble-jog the rest of the way to her dressing room.

Quinn was pacing in small circles, flushed and sweating and slightly breathless, hands on her hips and her belly and everywhere because she couldn't hold them still.

Rachel went straight to her. "Quinn, are you-what's going-"

"I think he's coming, Rachel." Quinn's voice was high. Pained, on the verge of something.

Rachel's mind went blank. She could not remember anything she'd ever learned in her life. Where was she and what was she doing and how in the world had she gotten to this point?

"_Rachel._" Quinn whined and hunched forward, and it was like a kick in the back because Rachel shot forward and wrapped an arm around her wife and held her close.

"Okay, baby. You're okay, baby." She assured, stroking Quinn's hair until it passed. "Everything's okay."

When Quinn was upright again, Rachel regained her senses. Got her shit together. She unzipped her damn lead weight dress because it was giving her heat stroke, and replaced it with a t-shirt and sweats that she'd left in her dressing room.

She spun in circles, and the shirt went on inside out, and _wow_ her ankle was throbbing, but she seized her keys and a jacket and Quinn's hand and moved towards the door.

"Did you hurt yourself, baby?" Quinn asked breathlessly, trying to keep up with her.

Rachel slowed and smiled, as calmly as she could. "I'm okay, bear."

"You're limping." Quinn pressed.

Rachel couldn't deny it. She'd managed to injure her ankle in an ill-advised, spontaneous, _idiotic_ sprint backstage.

"It's alright, Quinn. Let's focus on the baby."

Quinn looked unsure, but in too much discomfort to push further.

"Karen!" Rachel bellowed, hurrying down the hall and hoping her understudy was around to hear this. "You're taking over! I'll be at the hospital!"

Her last sentence was cut off by the exit door swinging shut behind Quinn, blasting them with cold air. She knew Mike would be able to take care of things here. Rachel stopped on the sidewalk to catch her breath, just so that she wouldn't lead them on a frantic dash through traffic.

Quinn clutched sporadically at her lower back and at her belly and glanced across the street.

Rachel searched for a cab.

"Rachel, they're-they're giving away free sundaes there." Quinn murmured, eyeing the place with interest.

What better time for ice cream?

"We're going to have to pass on that." Rachel said softly, running through a list of people who needed to be called.

Her dads. Her neighbors because the dogs were in the yard. Puck, Santana, Brittany, Sam, Kurt, and Blaine. Lisa. Tom. Everybody she'd ever met in her life.

Quinn hummed and stepped forward and clung to Rachel's side while Rachel hailed a cab. Quinn took one step towards it, and then froze, and Rachel fired off a text to Santana to let everybody know what was happening.

"My-my water just broke." Quinn murmured.

In the dark, on the sidewalk outside a theater across from a place with free sundaes.

Rachel sucked in a breath. All of this was happening three weeks too soon. She was leaving a show halfway through, and tomorrow would be Easter, and she could feel Quinn's chocolate eggs in her sweatpant pockets and Quinn's hand, warm and sweaty, in her own.

How had Quinn managed to store her chocolate eggs in Rachel's sweats?

Rachel shut the cab door behind them and kissed Quinn's cheek and directed the driver to the hospital.

This was happening, whether they were ready or not.


	26. Chapter 26

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 26: Then Came a Baby Boy with Blonde Eyelashes**

"Can't you _do_ anything?!" Rachel screeched, sweaty and light-headed and seconds from keeling over.

Sixteen hours into labor and her vision was finally starting to gray.

"She can't have any more drugs yet." A harried nurse called, catching Rachel's frantic eyes over the commotion. "She's doing great. Quinn, you're doing great. Just keep it up."

Quinn groaned. Rachel's hand had gone numb about an hour ago, so she didn't feel it when Quinn dug her nails in. Deeply, leaving red welts and purple blotches on her palm. They matched the large, red bruise swelling around her ankle.

"You're doing so well, baby." Rachel encouraged breathlessly, brushing the damp hair back from Quinn's forehead. "Just a couple more pushes. You're doing amazing."

Rachel had never witnessed a human birth before, but it seemed like Quinn had been exceedingly quiet during the whole thing. She let out deep, soundless groans and crushed Rachel's hand and flung multiple cups full of ice against the wall, but she didn't scream or yell or swear.

Rachel would be bringing the house down if she was having the baby. Swearing to Jesus and back again. Kicking people in the face.

"We can see the head, Quinn. Just give a big push when I say so, okay?"

Quinn shook her head rapidly and opened her eyes. "I don't…_like_ you." She choked out, strained and flushed and speaking to nobody in particular.

"I know, bear, I know."

"Why did you-why are we-this isn't-_I hate_-"

Tears leaked out of Quinn's eyes and rolled down her cheeks and mixed with sweat, and Rachel wiped them all away with the tiny towel they'd given her.

"Okay, Quinn, push!" the doctor urged.

Quinn pitched forward, and then backwards, because she couldn't push sitting forward, but she couldn't seem to do it sitting back either, and Rachel held her shoulder and her hand and wondered if it was possible to spontaneously rupture her insides with how hard _she_ was pushing along with her wife.

She had nothing to push. She'd probably herniate herself.

"It's not-" Quinn choked on her breath and cried out.

"You're okay, bear. You're okay." Rachel kept her mouth close to Quinn's ear, trying to be the only thing she could hear.

"She's tearing, she's tearing." One of the doctors announced loudly, and that incited an even greater commotion than before.

Rachel winced painfully. Her face was hot and she was getting tunnel vision and her stomach felt hollow. _Tearing_. She tilted unsteadily against the hospital bed.

"No-Ra-Rach, don't you _dare_-"

"Quinn, push, _now_!" a doctor yelled, and Quinn pressed her face against Rachel's shoulder and complied, crying out gutturally.

"That's it. Good job. Good job, baby." Rachel repeated shakily, eyes closed, half on the bed at this point, if only to keep herself upright.

When Quinn's body relaxed, Rachel panicked. She opened her eyes and blinked the blurriness away, and then the _crying_ met her ears, a little baby boy, and Rachel's chest heaved in relief and concern because Quinn really didn't look well.

She couldn't even see the baby. The doctor still sat at the end of the bed, leaning forward to deal with something new.

"This is-yeah, this is second degree." He spun on little stool to quickly inform a nurse. "We need-Quinn, you hang in there, okay-we need local anesthetic. Have to stitch it."

Rachel tipped forward and hugged Quinn's neck and pressed her lips to her temple. She was alarmingly pale, having been crimson only a few minutes ago. She blinked dazedly at Rachel's hair in her eyes.

"I love you, I love you, baby." Rachel mumbled, and then she was crying because she couldn't see her baby boy yet, and she didn't know where he'd gone, and Quinn seemed to be falling asleep at the most inopportune time.

"Bear, baby, you're okay, please." She said softly, dragging her hand through Quinn's hair.

The other was slowly regaining feeling, _horrible_ feeling, like it had been run over with a car, but Rachel ignored it easily.

"Rachel?" A nurse called from a doorway across the room. "Would you like to come and see him?"

Rachel hesitated. She didn't move away from Quinn, but she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "I need-I need to stay with-"

"You should meet your boy, Rachel." The doctor remarked without shifting his eyes from his work. "Quinn will be-I'm just stitching her up. This isn't so uncommon. She'll be fine."

Rachel gazed uneasily at Quinn's face. It did seem like the color was returning to her cheeks.

"Baby? Can you hear me?" she whispered, tucking the blonde hair out of Quinn's eyes. Her voice was thick and anxious.

Quinn hummed uncomfortably.

"Bear, we have a baby now."

Quinn's eyes fluttered open, hazel and red and glassy and confused.

"I'm going to go meet him, okay?" Rachel said softly.

Quinn hummed again, and then lolled her head slightly towards Rachel's. Rachel kissed her lips, and then her cheeks, and ran her hand through damp blonde a hair a few more times before pushing slowly away from the bed to follow the nurse.

Her legs were unsteady, and she limped and stuck her hand into her sweatpants pocket and was met with a glob of melted chocolate Easter eggs.

And then the nurse spun around, and there was a small blue bundle in her arms, and Rachel was overwhelmed because his face was tiny and red and he was so gentle and_ quiet_, and his blonde eyelashes were perfect.

He was perfect. Rachel was standing there in stage make-up and a backwards t-shirt, with an injured hand and a swollen ankle and pockets full of her wife's melted chocolate, and he was _perfect_.

"Is he-can I hold him?" she whispered, already stepping forward.

His cheeks were scrunched up and chubby, and his fists were pressed against his mouth like a rabbit. Rachel almost burst into tears when she saw his wide blue eyes.

"They usually change color." The nurse said softly, carefully handing over.

"Hi, baby boy." Rachel choked, lifting him up, careful to support his head so that she could kiss his forehead. He was lighter than anything. Lighter than the dogs when they'd been puppies. Lighter than their cats and rabbit.

"You just couldn't wait, could you?"

She could see Quinn in him already.

He scrunched up his face further, and Rachel sniffled and chuckled and was absolutely captivated. "It's because it's Easter, right? You knew mommy would have chocolate."

"Eighteen inches, five pounds, seven ounces." The nurse informed with a kind smile. "Do you have a name?"

Rachel traced a finger around his tiny fist. "King James." She whispered. "James Christopher Robin. I know it's a…_mouthful_."

Rachel was actually adding the "Christopher" spontaneously. Right there in the hospital room. She imagined the delight she'd find on Quinn's face and knew it was the right decision.

She actually missed the nurse's reaction because she could not take her eyes off of her baby. She needed Quinn to meet him, to fawn over him, because she was the only person who would understand what Rachel was feeling.

James shut his eyes, and puffed out his chubby cheeks, and Rachel was a mother.

~oooooooooo~

Rachel called her dads, and then Santana and Puck and Kurt, and fell asleep with her arms folded on Quinn's bed. One hand had been bandaged to an ice pack, and her hair was a mess and the chocolate in her pocket was just getting _worse_, but she refused to leave Quinn's room.

She woke up with Quinn's hand on top of her head, just resting there, tangled in the dark knots.

"Is he okay?" Quinn whispered, voice slurred and worried and tired.

Rachel smiled and sat up immediately, ignoring the fact that her elbows and shoulders seemed to bend the other way now, and Quinn's hand dropped to run through her hair.

"He's wonderful, baby." Rachel assured quietly. "Five pounds, seven ounces, and eighteen inches long. You were so great."

Quinn nodded and swallowed thickly, and her eyes were filling with tears before Rachel knew what was happening.

So Rachel climbed onto the bed, of course, and squeezed herself into Quinn's side, careful not to disturb anything.

"You were _amazing_, bear. James is amazing." She repeated softly.

Quinn rolled into her, grimacing slightly. "I told-I _told_ you his head was too big."

Rachel hummed. "He's just like you."

Quinn poked Rachel in the ribs, and Rachel shifted and brought her hand up and laughed at the gasp her icepack bandage elicited.

"What-did I do that?" Quinn wondered, stricken. She examined Rachel's hand herself, with difficulty because she seemed to be lacking coordination at the moment, and then gently kissed Rachel's palm.

"It's only bruised, bear."

Quinn eyed her, distressed. "Your fingers are purple."

Rachel wondered if Quinn knew that she'd been stitched up, and that she was now sitting on an icepack waiting for the pain to come rushing back when the medication wore off. Rachel would not be the one to complain about a bruised hand at the moment.

Quinn sighed and pressed her nose into Rachel's cheek. She was silent for a minute, but then she sniffed and blinked blurrily up at Rachel, lips twitching.

"Why do you smell like chocolate, Rachel?"

Because of the goddamn blob of melted eggs in her sweatpants.

Rachel smiled widely and chose to ignore the situation. "Are you ready to meet James, baby? Are you awake enough?"

"Yes. Yes-yeah, I am." Quinn fumbled to sit up, chocolate forgotten, and Rachel put a hand on her shoulder and helped her along.

She fetched the nurse, and then returned to Quinn, and the nurse rolled James in from the nursery a few minutes later. Quinn seemed to stop breathing as soon as the door opened, and Rachel kissed her head and watched, absolutely delighted and entranced.

The nurse didn't hesitate in carefully picking up the blue bundle to hand to Quinn, and Quinn was _fascinated_ and crying, and Rachel was pretty sure she hadn't blinked yet. Her fingers were pale and gentle against James's skin, and she held him close and traced his cheeks and whispered under her breath, tearing her gaze away only to look at Rachel.

"You're-he's-he's _beautiful._" She managed, and Rachel nodded and smiled softly because _of course_ he was. He came out of Quinn.

And he came out in the middle of _Hello! Dolly_, obviously spurred on by Rachel's voice and talent and brilliant musical theater in general, so he was destined to be a star as well.

"He feels like a hippo." Quinn whispered next, and Rachel snorted softly and tilted into Quinn's side, not surprised at all.

"Why, baby?"

Quinn ran a finger over James's ear and then along the top of his head. He lifted a fist, and a small spit bubble formed at his lips, but he didn't wake up.

"He's-his hair is fuzzy, like a baby hippo's." Quinn informed. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to James's forehead, and she was crying again when she pulled back.

Rachel squeezed her shoulders.

"They're related to whales, you know." Quinn sniffled, fixing James's soft blue blanket.

Rachel hummed absently. She couldn't take her eyes off their little boy, and she was tearing up again herself.

"Hippos are." Quinn clarified quietly. "He smells so good."

Rachel pressed her hands to her eyes. "We made-Quinn, he's _so_-"

She just could not fathom where he'd come from. This perfect baby was giving her a breakdown. This hippo baby, king James, Christopher Robin, little bear baby with tiny fists and chubby cheeks and a fluff of blonde hair would be the end of Rachel.

Her shoulders shook, and Quinn smiled at her and held her hand still.

"I know, little bear." She murmured simply.

And then Rachel was imagining a life without Quinn, because there were so many ways that birth could've gone, and _wow_, it was like her vision was blacked out. Like she'd stepped into a vacuum. No more chocolate in her pockets, cold feet in the middle of the night, cookies in the morning, kisses on the living room floor. Rachel twisted sideways and pressed her face against Quinn's shoulder until she could collect herself.

Quinn squeezed her with one arm and supported James with the other.

"Rachel." She whispered, and Rachel tried to slow her crying and breathing and snotting against Quinn's hospital gown.

"Sorry." She mumbled, and _God_ she was such a mess.

Hormonal, chocolatey, tired mess on Easter afternoon.

"No, baby." Quinn tried to catch Rachel's eyes. "Just…look. Look at him. It's okay."

Rachel complied. She couldn't _not_. She rested her head on Quinn's shoulder and wiped her eyes with her sleeve and listened to Quinn babble about hippos to their sleeping baby.

"Listen, Christopher Robin," Quinn whispered, and tapped her fingers where his tiny feet would be, "when you see somebody putting on his big boots, you can be pretty sure that an adventure is going to happen."

It was exactly how a Berry-Fabray should be introduced to the world.

~ooooooooooooo~

"You really couldn't wait any longer to pop it out?" Santana questioned loudly, annoyed, breezing into Quinn's room with their friends in tow.

Rachel grimaced at her word choice. Quinn probably _wished_ it had "popped out." The painkillers were wearing off and she was shifting uncomfortably on her ice pack.

"Where is it?" Puck asked eagerly. He glanced around the room far less discreetly than Santana had, checking under one of the metal carts like _that's_ where they'd put their newborn.

"_He_." Kurt corrected. "Not _it_."

Santana spun in a circle by the door, eyebrows raised. "You got a nice room here." She mused.

"Quinn, how are you?" Blaine asked nicely, smiling at Quinn.

Quinn pressed her fingers against Rachel's lower back, playing with the fabric of her t-shirt. She smiled slightly when Rachel squirmed. "I'm well, thank you."

"Where's Burrito?"

"_James_." Rachel huffed. "And lower your voices, please. Quinn's not well."

Quinn snorted lightly behind her, and Rachel twisted and caught her eye and winked.

"You should've called him Jesus." Brittany whispered. "Because he was born on Easter."

Jesus Berry-Fabray.

Kurt shook his head. "Jesus wasn't born on Easter, Britt."

"Rabbits are-they're used for Easter as symbols of new life and fertility, to celebrate His resurrection." Quinn informed quietly. She eyed Rachel's pocket and smiled. "And eggs."

Those damn eggs.

"Alright, where's the kid?" Santana stepped up and put her hands on the bar at the foot of Quinn's bed. "Let's get this show on the road."

Rachel got up to fetch the nurse and Quinn sighed in discomfort.

"You alright, Sunny Delight?" Santana checked, and Rachel saw genuine concern flash behind her eyes. For half a second, before one brow lifted and her smile turned amused.

Quinn nodded and pulled the blanket up to her chin.

"You're probably sore and tired, right?" Kurt guessed, nodding along with his words like he'd given birth just the other day.

Rachel sat back on the edge of the bed. "And she has perineal tear-"

"_Rachel._" Quinn said sharply, jabbing her in the back. Her face had gone crimson and she spoke under her breath. "Don't tell them that."

Santana backed away from the foot of the bed, laughing soundlessly.

"Oh, sorry, baby." Rachel apologized, and then tilted forward to give Quinn a kiss. Quinn turned her head so that Rachel caught her cheek.

"_Bear_." Rachel pressed.

Quinn put a hand on Rachel's chest to prevent her from coming closer. She studied her, hazel eyes sparkling. "You know, I know you almost fainted."

Rachel's eyes widened. She thought she'd covered it up so well.

Puck clapped his hands together. "Berry, I knew you'd do it!"

"I didn't _actually_ faint." Rachel defended shortly.

"God, you're so weak."

"San, you almost pass out every time we give Flappy a bath." Brittany shoved her girlfriend's shoulder. "At least Rachel stayed awake."

"_Barely_." Quinn mumbled, and Rachel turned around to make sure she wasn't actually upset.

It really was an accomplishment that Rachel hadn't vomited or knocked herself out.

"Bear." Rachel whispered and caught Quinn's eye. Quinn's lips twitched, and she raised an eyebrow when Rachel tapped her cheek.

"Love you." Rachel sang.

Quinn smiled tiredly. "Love you too."

"Oh, here he comes!" Kurt shrieked, and then caught himself and repeated what he'd said in a whisper.

"We'll let mama have him first." The nurse said calmly, smiling at Rachel's expression when she handed James over.

Every time was like the first time. She never wanted to put him down.

"Oh, he's moving more." Rachel observed quietly, watching his little fists clench and unclench. His eyes opened, and Rachel smiled, enchanted. "Hello, there."

"Look at his cheeks!" Brittany squealed softly, peering over Santana's shoulder.

"Dude…he's…" Puck couldn't seem to find anything to say, and he swallowed thickly and nodded like James had his approval. "He's…yeah. Cool, little man. Little dude. Whatever"

Kurt bent over and tapped James's fist. "Hello, James. I'm Uncle Kurt, and this is Uncle Blaine." He introduced, gently holding the baby's hand with his thumb and index finger. "And you have the most _gorgeous_ little eyelashes."

"Is he supposed to be that color?" Brittany wondered.

Rachel minutely tightened her hold on James. "Yes."

Santana didn't say anything. She studied James, and her eyes flickered over Rachel's head to Quinn, and she walked over and wordlessly bent over to give Quinn a hug. Quinn pressed her lips together and hugged her back. Rachel smiled to herself, and then felt Santana mussing up her hair.

"You guys didn't have an alien. Congrats."

It was the best they'd get.

Rachel handed James over to Kurt, taking an inordinately long amount of time to pry her fingers out of his fluffy blue blanket.

Blaine stepped forward with a small stuffed Pooh Bear in his hands. "This is from Sam." He explained, handing it to Rachel. "He said to give it to you when the baby came because he wouldn't be here to do it himself."

The first of many, probably.

Rachel awwed and thanked him and straightened Pooh's fuzzy red jumper. It was the perfect size for a little baby. Not big enough to crush him, but a good size for cuddling up to.

Quinn shifted and groaned softly, and Rachel turned around and leaned over to speak quietly.

"Do you need a new icepack, baby? Or Jell-O? Water?"

Quinn shook her head, splaying her blonde hair over the pillow. She gestured for Rachel to hand her the stuffed bear. They both glanced periodically over their shoulders to make sure James was in good hands.

And Rachel was exhausted, so she leaned back and pulled her legs up onto the bed. Puck walked over with James a few minutes later and deposited him in Quinn's arms. He was warm and cuddly, and then he started crying, and Quinn cooed calmly and rocked him against her chest.

Rachel wondered how she could be so close to falling asleep with a crying baby right next to her.

"Sounds like somebody's hungry!" the nurse announced, striding happily back into the room.

And that was the cue for their friends to leave. Everybody said their goodbyes, and got in their final squeezes and pinches and touches because James was a brand new toy to play with, something to protect and welcome, and Rachel watched the door swing shut behind them as they went.

~oooooooooooo~

Rachel _finally_ changed into some new sweatpants and put her shirt on the right way round, and then walked back into the hospital room to find one of the staff struggling with Quinn and James, trying to give a breastfeeding lesson.

Quinn actually looked upset, and Rachel was surprised because she'd been fine five minutes ago.

"A good latch is key, Quinn." The specialist recited, smiling when Rachel approached the bed. "Are you ready to try?"

Quinn sighed and shook her head. James was still crying, and she held him closely and stroked her finger over his arm.

Rachel frowned. "Why not, baby?"

Quinn glanced at her, and then at the lactation specialist. "Can you go, please?" she asked lowly.

The woman smiled kindly. "Quinn, I do this every day. It's my job. You don't have to be embarrassed about anything."

"I'm not embarrassed." Quinn said sharply, loudly, because James was increasing his volume. "I'm not-I don't-I can do it by-by-"

She cut herself off and shook her head, and her shoulders lifted like she was trying not to cry. Rachel saw the tears anyway, because they came _fast_, and she perched on the edge of the bed and rested a hand on Quinn's leg.

"Baby, Quinn, what-why are you crying?" she asked softly, mildly alarmed.

Quinn's shoulders shook and she wiped roughly at her face. "I don't-I don't _know_."

"Would you rather try this without the nurse here?"

The specialist stepped forward. "I'm not actually a nurse; I'm-"

"Rachel, where will he go if something happens to us?" Quinn plowed right through the nurse's statement.

Rachel's eyebrows lifted. "I-what?"

"If something happens to us, like it did to my parents, where would he go?"

"_Quinn_, don't-"

"No, Rachel, please." Quinn tilted forward, still teary-eyed and rocking James against her chest. "He can't-he _can't_ go where I did. We have to have a plan."

Rachel was bewildered. "Baby, we're surrounded by people who would take care of James."

Quinn nodded hopefully.

"My dads, Uncle Kurt and Uncle Blaine," Rachel listed, carefully gauging her wife's reaction because she wasn't sure where this had come from. "Auntie Britt, Auntie San, Uncle Puck, and Uncle Sam."

"You think…Would they take care of him if something happened?"

"Quinn, you-they don't-I can't-" Rachel stuttered in disbelief. She put a hand over Quinn's on James's blue blanket. "_Of course_ they would. How could you-Quinn, this baby would be their first priority. They love him so much already."

Quinn bit her lip and glanced down at the baby.

"Okay?" Rachel pressed. "Do you believe me?"

"I do." Quinn said softly.

Rachel smiled slightly and tipped forward. "Nothing's going to happen though, bear."

Even though she'd sprained her ankle, bruised her hand, and nearly passed out in a span of about fifteen hours.

Quinn shook her head. "I-yeah, sorry. I feel…deranged."

"You're not deranged." The lactation specialist assured, popping up from behind Rachel like she'd been lurking in the shadows. "Just hormonal. It'll take a while for them to settle down. Shall we get started?"

Quinn didn't even have time to nod before the specialist stepped forward to help partially disrobe her. Quinn flushed, and Rachel narrowed her eyes at this strange woman's hands and tried to block the view of her wife's chest.

"Now, as I was saying earlier, a good latch is key." The specialist explained. "If it hurts, then he's positioned incorrectly."

Quinn watched suspiciously, like she suspected this woman was spouting nonsense. Rachel ground her teeth while she watched, and then relaxed when James started suckling and the specialist stepped back.

And then Rachel's eyes were growing teary again because her family was beautiful and she'd really just lost her mind this Easter.

"You should watch for postpartum depression as well." The specialist advised, like she was picking up in the middle of a conversation. "Know the signs."

Rachel had actually looked up the signs several weeks ago, because she was _Rachel,_ and she'd fully expected this baby to come early, despite her panic at the time.

Quinn's gaze shifted sharply to the specialist. "I'll be fine. Are you-are you even qualified to-"

"_Quinn_." Rachel shook her head and nodded down at James. She mouthed an apology at the specialist. "If we-what would be the steps if we did…notice anything?" she wondered, trying to phrase it mildly for Quinn.

"Ask for help." The specialist suggested immediately. "Get support from friends and family. There's therapy and support groups, and several anti-depressants that can be given to breastfeeding mothers."

Quinn flinched visibly, and her leg stiffened under Rachel's hand. "No, you're not-we're not-I don't-no. No. It's not even an issue." She stuttered, wincing at the pain when she moved her leg. "You're not even a _doctor_."

"_Bear_." Rachel chided.

But Rachel agreed. She wouldn't be messing with that bridge until she needed to jump off.

Quinn huffed, frustrated again, but then she looked down at James and his puffy cheeks and closed eyes, and she relaxed.

Rachel moved closer so that the specialist wouldn't be able to hear. "You'll tell me though, right? If anything feels off?"

Quinn's eyes flickered up to her, more settled now.

"I know sometimes you can't tell, but just if you feel weird or sad, or-or anything at all." Rachel urged. "You'll tell me, right baby?"

"I feel hungry, Rachel." Quinn stated, lips quirking. "I'd like a cupcake, please."

Rachel shook her head and rolled her eyes. The one time she really needed a straight answer.

"And one for you as well."

Rachel sighed and shifted to heave herself off the bed, because _yeah_ she'd get Quinn a damn cupcake, but Quinn's hand on her arm stopped her. Quinn squeezed and dropped her joking smile.

"I'll tell you, Rachel."

"Good." Rachel nodded. "Good, that's-good. I don't want us to be overwhelmed."

Quinn chuckled lightly. "You're in an ankle brace and stage makeup, and you smell like melted chocolate, baby. Maybe you've hit the wall."

Rachel had broken _through_ that wall and circled back around to do it again.

She finally smiled, confident now that Quinn's eyes looked like _Quinn's eyes_ again. "At least I'm not calling the hospital staff incompetent."

"That's…mean." Quinn said absently, focusing back on James. "I said unqualified."

"You said-"

"Where's my cupcake, Rachel?"

Rachel laughed.

"Chocolate, please." Quinn plowed on, trying not to smile. "With Easter eggs because you sat on all of mine."

"I didn't _sit_-"

"You melted them into an inedible glob, Rachel. Where's my cupcake?"

Rachel attempted to scoff, but it came out as a snort. Quinn smiled widely at the sound.

And then Rachel kissed James's little fist and got up to procure a cupcake from _God knows where, _simply because Quinn wanted one.


	27. Chapter 27

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 27: Now Take It In, but Don't Look Down**

Rachel crouched on the floor with one arm wrapped solidly around Cornelius's chest and a hand threaded through his collar. She tipped into his side to prevent him from charging her newborn, and then nodded to Quinn.

"You have him?" Quinn checked, perched on the couch with the baby carrier on her lap.

James was dozing peacefully in the pale blue onesie and matching cap he'd worn home from the hospital, swaddled in blankets and buckled securely with his scrunched up face peeking out the top. There were three dogs, two cats, and a rabbit all locked perilously in a single bedroom to be introduced to him.

Cornelius was vibrating with energy, mischievous and volatile. Rachel could feel it through his silky black fur.

"Are you _absolutely sure_?" Quinn pressed, half shielding the baby carrier like she didn't trust Rachel's strength with their dog.

Rachel nodded impatiently. "Baby, hurry up. We have six more to do and it's bedtime."

"It's five o'clock." Quinn remarked, absently tapping the plastic carrier.

"And we need adequate rest before James begins his crying phase. Are you not tired?"

Rachel _knew_ Quinn was tired. Absolutely exhausted and rapidly losing lucidity.

Her hair was flat and tangled, and she was sore and there were shadows under her eyes, and she didn't even need to nod because Puck had almost had to carry her up the stairs to their second floor.

"What if we both fall asleep and something happens to him?" Quinn asked instead, ignoring the question and calmly carrying on a conversation while Rachel was struggling with Cornelius on the floor.

"He'll be right next to us, bear." Rachel assured breathlessly. She twisted her weight when Seal squirmed. "Blaine and Kurt mov-moved the bassinet to our room."

"I _know_, but something could still-" Quinn sat forward abruptly and blew into Cornelius's nose. The dog stilled, and his alert brown eyes landed on Quinn, ears angled forward.

Rachel spat the dog hair out of her mouth.

"Something could still go wrong." Quinn finished earnestly. "You know, he breathes periodically, sort of sporadically, like a cow."

Rachel stared. "What?"

"He'll breathe consistently, and then he pauses for a second or takes an extra deep breath, like cows do. Like temporary hyperpnea." Quinn explained, warily watching Rachel's eyes widen. "Don't-the doctor informed me it's perfectly normal. You were sleeping."

"Oh my-why did you bring it up if it's _normal_?" Rachel asked incredulously, now stricken with panic.

"I thought-I don't-" Quinn fumbled, and then frowned and sat forward. "Rachel hurry up, it's bedtime. What are you doing?"

Rachel scoffed, and it came out high-pitched and disbelieving, but whatever magic air Quinn had blown into Cornelius's nostrils seemed to be wearing off, so she shuffled him closer before he could try to escape again. Quinn turned the baby carrier and held it in her hands just above the dog's eye level.

"Seal, this is James." Quinn introduced softly, unblinkingly watching Cornelius's face. "James, this is Cornelius. He's a border collie. They're very smart."

Rachel snorted softly and kept Cornelius from pushing his head into the baby's space. James wasn't even awake for his first lesson in dog breeds.

"You can…loosen your hold a little, babe." Quinn said quietly, eyeing Cornelius.

His ears twitched forward and his eyes were shining and alert, and he sat perfectly still, sniffing curiously over the blanket at James's feet when Rachel gave him some slack.

"There's a good boy." Rachel cooed. She kept an arm across his chest just so that he wouldn't get carried away.

Quinn smiled, like she'd had confidence in him all along. "See, he can be gentle sometimes."

It was like a different dog. But the tag on his collar said "SEAL," and there was a shaved spot on his leg from where he'd been playing in a streak of oil in a parking garage several blocks away, so it was definitely Cornelius.

He sat back and panted happily, leaning all of his weight onto Rachel until she dragged him away to fetch the next dog.

Barnaby and Cloud reacted much the same, with less struggle, and Barnaby rested his nose at the base of the baby carrier and watched James's face calmly. Charizard refused to step too close to the baby, Butter had no interest whatsoever in anything she couldn't eat, and Jelly repeatedly attempted to climb into the carrier because it seemed to be the center of attention.

Benjamin kicked Rachel in the chest before she could even introduce him to James, and she decided they'd save that for another day.

So James was moved to the bassinet in the master bedroom, and he opened his eyes and blinked blurrily when Rachel scooped him smoothly out of the baby carrier with his blanket. He was still the lightest, most beautiful thing. She took off his cap and kissed his forehead and laid him down, and then sat on the edge of the bed with Quinn.

Quinn was captivated as well. Swaying slightly into Rachel with exhaustion, but captivated.

"Do you need a hot water bottle, baby?" Rachel asked quietly, leaning into her side.

Quinn hummed. "I don't think that helps."

James twisted his hands up under his chin and they both smiled.

"How about ice?"

"Oh, no." Quinn grimaced.

Rachel tapped her thigh lightly, and James fell asleep within a few minutes, bubbles forming at his lips. Rachel sighed at his expression. She wanted to sleep, but she didn't want to take her eyes off of this perfect new thing in their house.

"What do we do now?" she wondered, squeezing Quinn's leg.

She had no nurses, no lactation specialists, no professionals to tell her what to do. Just a baby who breathed like a cow and a wife right there next to her.

"Sleep?" Quinn offered, unsure.

Rachel wrapped both arms around Quinn's shoulders, dragging her eyes away from James to press her face into Quinn's sweatshirt.

Quinn chuckled lightly. "Do you need a hot water bottle, Rachel? Maybe some ice?"

"Hold me, please." She requested.

Quinn immediately scooted backwards and tugged Rachel with her, and then rolled into Rachel's side and squeezed her tightly.

"I'm not going to be able to fall asleep." Rachel whispered, listening carefully for James's breathing.

Quinn shushed her. "Just cuddle."

"I'm too excited."

"Count hippos."

"Of course." Rachel shook her head, knocking it into Quinn's chin.

Quinn put a hand over Rachel's ear to hold her still. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Rachel couldn't even remember what she'd said, she was so out of it. "I can't wait to see what he does next." She mused instead, eyeing the baby carrier behind Quinn's arm.

Quinn lifted her head up to see James and hummed in agreement. When Rachel opened her mouth again, Quinn squeezed tighter like it would make her stay quiet, which it did, and Rachel fell asleep listening to her baby breathe like a cow.

~ooooooooooooo~

It was a couple days before the full-blown crying started. James dozed mostly, cried when he was hungry, and succeeded in lulling Rachel and Quinn into a false sense of security. And then he woke up at two o'clock on Thursday morning, bawling at a spectacular volume and twisting his little hands around, and Rachel was hit with the reality of a newborn baby.

They moved the bassinet into the nursery that night, carefully maneuvering it in the bright hallway lights, half-asleep and pitching against the walls in delirium. Rachel found that she might have to strap Quinn down to prevent her from running to check on James every ten minutes.

Which wouldn't be possible, because Rachel would be hustling through that door right by her side.

Rachel leaned against the changing table on Friday afternoon, a camera, photo album, marker, and notebook in her hands. Quinn was changing James's diaper, inordinately delighted at finally having guessed the cause of his distress.

"How would you describe that, Quinn?" Rachel opened her notebook to the chart she'd printed neatly on the first page. "I need to add it to the pee and poop schedule."

Her vocabulary had adapted easily to life with a baby.

Quinn side-eyed her. "Do you want…_texture_?"

Rachel nodded expectantly.

"I don't think that's necessary, Rachel."

"Keeping detailed records at this stage in his life is a must, Quinn." Rachel handed over the baby powder. "We're going to start losing sleep, and we'll be liable to forget things."

Quinn sighed. "_Maybe_ we could just write it down if it seems abnormal. There's no need-"

"Please." Rachel interrupted, face falling. "I'd feel more comfortable. You know how I-it's-I like to write things down."

Quinn smiled slightly, focused on fastening the new diaper. "I know you do."

Rachel was actually growing anxious. All she needed to know was the texture of the poop. She needed to write it down, make sure everything was normal, shut the notebook, return James to his crib, order something for dinner, and then head out to her show.

This was holding everything up. And if one thing was held up, _everything_ would be.

"I'm not joking, baby." Rachel said quietly. She clutched the notebook tightly.

Quinn turned and stared at her for a second. They were both in sweats and t-shirts, and Rachel's hair was curled sloppily around her shoulders. Mis-matched socks, spit-up stains _already_.

"It was the same as last time." Quinn informed, reaching for Rachel's fingers. "Quarter-sized. Yellow."

Rachel hummed and printed the description on her chart. When she looked up, Quinn was still looking at her. James lifted a foot in the air and blinked obliviously.

"You can go lie down if you need-"

"No, I'm okay." Rachel cut Quinn off. She remembered abruptly that she needed to get to the theater early to have one of her dresses re-hemmed. And there was laundry to do and flights to book for her dads.

Quinn lifted a hand and palmed one of Rachel's flushed cheeks.

"Okay." she said softly, probably disbelievingly, and she smiled when Rachel pulled her hand away to give it a kiss.

"Let's put him back." Rachel whispered.

Quinn focused her attention back on James. She tickled the bottoms of his feet, grinning at his wide eyes, and then she leaned forward and kissed his bare tummy.

"You're all set, baby bear." She cooed brightly. She took one of his feet and pressed it to her mouth, complete with growling noises, and Rachel couldn't suppress her smile.

"Mmm, yum yum." Quinn declared, playing with his legs.

James's fists opened and closed, and his blue eyes stared unblinkingly, and Rachel found herself laughing because he obviously had no idea what was happening.

And then four hours later, all Rachel had done was a load of laundry.

She swayed around the nursery with a crying James in her arms, trying to tear herself away because she _really_ needed to make her show tonight. She'd missed six already, and her ankle had healed and Quinn said she could handle James by herself for an evening, and Rachel was just out of excuses.

How could she possibly dance around on stage when she had a baby at home?

"This isn't working." Rachel remarked, high-pitched, glancing at Quinn sprawled across the comfy rocking chair.

Quinn shrugged helplessly. "Maybe-just-try switching positions again? You burped him, right?"

Rachel nodded. "Okay, baby." She whispered, maneuvering James so that he was upright with his head on her shoulder. "Can you stop crying for mama? Please?"

James went silent for a minute, and Rachel was amazed. But then the spit-up hit her shoulder and soaked into the faded NYU sweatshirt and she sighed without even looking at it. Quinn's sigh was louder, sadder, because James seemed to be having trouble breast-feeding and losing what looked like a whole meal was disconcerting.

"I don't think he likes milk." Rachel remarked wryly, gently wiping James's face before settling him back in the crib.

Quinn wordlessly leaned back in the chair and lifted her legs onto the footrest.

"Are you sure you'll be alright tonight?" Rachel wondered, patting absently at her sweatshirt with a towel before just rolling her eyes and pulling it over her head. Half her shirt came with it, and Quinn's eyes landed on her exposed abdomen and lingered there, too tired to move away.

"Because I don't have to go back yet. I can put it off until-"

"You do." Quinn smiled softly. "They miss you. We'll be fine here, babe."

Rachel shuffled over and sat on the armrest, and then wiggled down until she was next to Quinn in the chair. Quinn kissed her head and discreetly patted down her hair.

"I'll miss you too." Rachel said weakly. Her chest felt a bit heavy, and she knew she _had_ to leave soon. "Call me if you need anything, okay?"

"I will."

"Don't hesitate, even if it's just a tiny little thing."

"I know, Rachel."

"And your food should be here shortly. Max's delivers fairly quickly."

Quinn tapped her fingers against Rachel's side. "You need to go, Rachel."

Rachel swallowed thickly. She was quickly degenerating. "I don't want to go."

Quinn was silent for a minute. She studied Rachel's face and the tears coming out of nowhere, and then sighed and wrapped her arms around her wife. "Then don't go, baby. Don't cry."

"I _have_ to go." Rachel sniffled.

It was a ridiculous situation, really.

"Do what you need to do. Go to your show, Rachel." Quinn said quietly, right against her ear. "And then when you get back, you can come in here and watch him sleep for as long as you need. And then you can lie with me, and tomorrow we can have waffles for breakfast and we can give him another sponge bath, okay?"

Rachel breathed shakily.

"It's only a few hours." Quinn reminded. "And you love it. You'll love being back on the stage."

Rachel nodded. "O-okay, I'll go. Remember to record everything on the-on the chart if you change his diaper, and write down when he sleeps and when he cries, and get-get some rest of your own, bear."

Quinn smiled. She tugged on a lock of Rachel's messy hair and shifted until Rachel could extract herself from the chair.

Rachel went straight to the crib and leaned over it until she could kiss James's forehead. "Night night, baby." She whispered, and really-leaving was like tearing off one of her limbs. "Take care of mommy while I'm gone, please."

And then she gave Quinn a kiss and pried herself out of the nursery before she could have a breakdown on the floor.

~ooooooooooooo~

Only a couple days later, things seemed to be degenerating far too quickly. Or escalating, rolling out of control, right off the tracks. Rachel hadn't anticipated _running out of food_. She hadn't known they'd have to order in each night because neither she nor Quinn had the time or energy to make dinner, and she really wasn't used to keeping the hours of a serial killer.

Sporadically up all night, napping at noon, careening drowsily through the streets to her shows in the evenings. It was all Rachel could do to keep up, and she was dizzy and feverish and just _waiting_ for a nosebleed.

She wandered drowsily into the kitchen at four in the morning-because that was the kind of thing she did now- and found Quinn sitting slouched over the breakfast bar, eyes half-closed, spooning Frosted Flakes into her mouth. There was no indication that Quinn had heard her. Or that Quinn was _awake_.

"Is that soy milk?" Rachel asked groggily, quietly, settling onto the stool next to her wife.

Quinn held a spoonful up to Rachel's mouth, not bothering to answer.

It dribbled down her chin, but Rachel had been covered in so much spit-up lately that she barely even noticed.

"Why are you roaming about?" Quinn murmured, drooping even lower. Rachel expected her to just slide right off the stool. Fall asleep on the floor.

"You didn't come back to bed."

Quinn scoffed sloppily into her cereal. "There's no point. He'll just…_wake_ _up_ again in an hour."

Rachel sighed. She tilted into Quinn's shoulder and accepted another spoonful of cereal.

"And we don't have any food." Quinn declared hopelessly. "We need-we can't…"

She gave up and slouched lower until her hair grazed the milk in her bowl. Rachel reached over and brushed it behind her ears.

"I'll-maybe I can go tomorrow." Rachel mused.

Tomorrow was…Tuesday. Or Wednesday. Maybe Christmas? Maybe June.

"You have an interview and a show. Of course you can't." Quinn shook her head.

"It doesn't take that long, baby."

Quinn clenched her jaw and kicked her socks against the rung of the stool.

"You need to go to bed." Rachel drawled, leaning back to stretch and nearly toppling off the stool. She seized the counter, jammed her toe into the wall, and felt _nothing_ because it was four in the morning.

Quinn shushed her. "You'll wake him up!"

Rachel just sighed. She took Quinn's abandoned spoon and pulled the bowl of cereal towards her. "I'm having this if you're not going to finish it."

Quinn folded her arms on the counter and dropped her chin on top of them.

"Go to sleep, Quinn." Rachel requested quietly. She dragged her fingers over Quinn's hair and rolled her eyes when her wife squirmed away.

"I can't _sleep_."

"Don't be snappy."

Quinn sat up again and fixed her tired eyes on Rachel's. "I'm not-it's…" She exhaled sharply out of her nose and reached for Rachel's bowl. "Give me my cereal back."

"Share it with me." Rachel slopped milk out of her spoon when she refused to let go. "And slow down. You eat faster than I do. And stop putting so much sugar on them. They come frosted."

"I don't even like Frosted Flakes. You ate all the good cereal."

Rachel shoved the bowl back to her wife. "You're being ridiculous, Quinn." She said shortly. "We need to go back to bed."

Quinn stared blandly at the bowl. She wasn't touching it, and Rachel rolled her eyes and pulled it back because really she was _starving_.

"I can't sleep." Quinn murmured, rocking slightly in her seat.

Rachel watched her and dribbled more milk down her chin. "Why not?"

"My-I'm sore. My boobs really hurt." Quinn flushed in the dim light. "I mean-they're-I never thought breasts could hurt so badly."

"You should take your pain meds."

Quinn really couldn't complain about pain when she refused to take the medication the doctors had given her. She sighed in frustration and shook her hair out. "No, Rachel."

"You'll be able to sleep." Rachel pressed, mouth full of Flakes. Drops flew over the counter and she reached out to wipe them with her hand.

"I'm not-I don't need them."

Rachel heard the waver in Quinn's voice and collected up what little tact she could muster at such an ungodly hour.

"They're for pain, baby." She murmured, watching Quinn's profile. "They're not like what you used to take."

Quinn swallowed thickly. "I don't need them."

"You need _sleep_. For…my sake, and James's sake. You need to be able to sleep."

Quinn was silent. She tapped her heels against the rung on the chair and finally looked at Rachel. "Maybe-maybe I could take them just once?" she wondered carefully. "And see what they accomplish."

Rachel smiled, or tried to, because she couldn't really control her face this early. "Okay, bear."

And then she went back to her cereal, the only food in the house, and was hit with the sudden realization that _wow_, they needed help. They needed help now, desperately, because Rachel was ready to roll off the stool, across the floor, out the window, and into the sun, and Quinn was sleeping in a bowl of milk.

"I'm calling Santana." She declared abruptly, sliding her phone out of the pocket of her fleecy pajamas.

Quinn stared, hair mussed from how it was resting on her arms. "What?"

"We need help."

"Just-you can't wait until the morning?" Quinn frowned. "She might get angry."

Rachel laughed wryly. "She _will_ get angry, but we need help now. I need-I need to call somebody _now_, Quinn."

Or she'd lose her mind. She'd tear something apart or throw something against the wall, and it just needed to be done. They had too much to do by themselves.

Quinn studied her. "Okay, baby." She said softly, reaching out to squeeze Rachel's thigh.

Santana picked up on the first ring, surprisingly, and Rachel plowed right through their friend's unintelligible, obnoxious morning gibberish.

"I'm sorry to call so early, Santana, but we need help."

Santana fell silent, or fell back to sleep, and Rachel switched the phone to speaker. "We _really_ need help." Rachel repeated. "My dads won't be here for a week, and we're sort of…we're _so_ tired."

"Mmm." Santana hummed groggily. "Like…shit. Right now?"

Her voice sounded annoyed, but Rachel could hear her shuffling around like she was preparing to get out of bed.

"Not…this second." Quinn supplied. "We're out of-we're out of food. Rachel ate all my cereal, and we need-"

"It's not just _your_ cereal." Rachel huffed.

"And we need casseroles or something, I don't know." Quinn plowed on. "Lasagna. Anything big and freezable. Rachel likes all kinds of pasta."

Rachel nodded. "And we need groceries and paper towels, and we _really_ need help around the house, and maybe Britt would like to play with the dogs this week? I think they're feeling neglected."

"Wait, slow the hell down." Santana interrupted. "I gotta-let me get a pen. Britt, where's a pen? It's-no, it's Rachel and Quinn. They're having an early morning breakdown and they called Auntie San to rescue them."

Rachel snorted lightly. She was feeling relieved already. Santana was getting a pen and things would get done.

"Okay, so…lasagna. Casserole. Paper towels." Santana listed. "Any particular brand of paper towel? Bounty? Scott?"

Quinn narrowed her eyes. "Are you serious?"

"Always, sunshine."

Quinn stared at the phone, confused and exasperated, and Rachel shook her head and took Quinn's hand.

"I'll call Puckerman and Kurt, and we'll work out how we're gonna drag our asses around there to help you guys out." Santana informed distractedly, and Rachel heard more shuffling and crinkling of papers in the background.

"_Thank you_." Rachel said sincerely. "Really Santana, we really-just, thank you."

Santana scoffed. "Next time-well, no, next time do exactly the same thing. If you need help, call. I'll send a minion over to do the job. And I expect you to be my servants when I have a damn baby."

"Thank you, Santana." Quinn murmured, drooping gradually back down to the counter.

"You got it, Sunny Delight."

Quinn rolled her eyes, and Rachel hung up and slurped the rest of the milk from the cereal bowl. She finished and wiped her mouth, and then her eyes and her cheeks because they were flushed and tired, and Quinn watched her fondly.

"You can have all the Frosted Flakes next time, Rachel." Quinn offered, amused. A little guilty.

Rachel stood up, unsteady because it was still _four in the morning_, and she wordlessly kissed Quinn's cheek and wandered back towards their bedroom to collapse again.

And then James started crying.

~ooooooooooo~

Santana banged on the door at ten the next morning. Rachel didn't bother going down the stairs to open it, because-why start now?-and Santana appeared in the living room after a few seconds with Kurt, Brittany, Blaine, and Puck on her heels.

With smiles, balloons, bags, and colorful boxes, they crept daintily along the wood floor, whispering like schoolchildren.

Rachel watched warily, splayed out on the couch under a heavy, sleeping Quinn.

"Where's Jon Bon?" Puck whispered, dropping a cooler next to the coffee table. "Is he sleeping?"

Rachel lolled her head around vaguely.

"We have a surprise for you!" Kurt declared, and his voice came out in such a high pitch that Quinn groaned and pressed her face more snugly against Rachel's chest.

"Up and at 'em, Quinn!" Blaine added brightly, pulling containers of food out of one of the bags.

Rachel's eyes blurred as she watched them all.

Santana stepped forward, eyebrows raised expectantly, and she lifted her hands when Rachel made no move to get off the couch.

"What do you want?" Rachel asked grouchily, tangling a hand in Quinn's hair.

"What?" Quinn mumbled, attempting to pick up her head.

"Not you, bear."

"_We_ want to give you the baby shower that you never had because baby Jem came along three weeks early." Kurt informed, now sashaying around with various gift bags.

Rachel blinked. "You-a baby shower?"

"Yes. Presents, food." Santana said impatiently, staring down at them. "Do you need a dictionary? Is your baby sapping all your intelligence, Berry?"

"_Hey_." Quinn protested in a tired grumble, muffled by Rachel's shoulder.

Santana smirked and waited to see if she'd say anything else. "Hey, what?"

Quinn frowned and lifted her head and blinked sleepily at the people surrounding her. "What?"

"Stop confusing her." Rachel ordered shortly, glaring at Santana.

Their friends looked bewildered. Like they'd left Quinn and Rachel alone for only a _couple days_, and then come back to find that they'd lost their minds and most of their ability to function.

"We're sending you guys to the park." Blaine informed. He took Santana by the shoulders and guided her back to Brittany before she could poke at Rachel any further.

Quinn hummed, pleased, like she'd smelled something nice. Rachel snorted at the sound and ran a hand over her back.

"It's only a few minutes away, and we've packed you a blanket and loads of food, and we'll take care of James and the dogs until you have to come back to feed him."

Quinn lifted herself up again, wedging herself between Rachel and the back of the couch. "We can't leave him here." She stated like it was obvious.

Puck looked up from where he was rolling on the floor with Cloud. "Dude, it's like two hours. We can handle him."

"I'm-yeah, you can." Quinn faltered. "But I don't want to-just-I can't _leave_ him behind."

Rachel smiled. Maybe Quinn would find out what it was like for her to leave James every day for her shows. To painstakingly _pry_ herself out that door, because that perfect little face that never shut up was her baby boy.

"You can sleep in the grass." Brittany promised. "And swim in the pond if you'd like."

Quinn shook her head uncertainly.

"Blaine made like seven thousand casseroles for you this morning," Santana drawled.

"_Three_. I made three."

"And when you get back," Santana continued. "We'll have gifts, and cookies, and you can feed Jimbo and then go back to sleep like the lazy asses you've become."

Quinn stared, and then turned to look at Rachel, so close that her nose pressed against Rachel's cheek. "What do you think?"

"Yes." Rachel nodded, unable to elaborate because James had stolen her vocabulary.

Quinn tapped Rachel's stomach. "Yeah? He'll be okay?"

"He'll be fine, baby. We'll only be a few minutes away."

Quinn's face looked so conflicted that Rachel had to smile.

"If you don't say yes in five seconds, we're leaving." Santana declared.

And just like that, they were shuffled off the couch and handed a basket and given barely any time to go to the nursery to say goodbye to James. They walked to the park, like two drunken fools swaying a bit dangerously around the sidewalk, not really sure where they were or what was going on, and they dropped straight to the grass in the lovely spring sunshine.

Their friends had packed fresh deli sandwiches and tofurkey and pasta and grapes, with cookies and brownies and Sunny Delight, and Rachel was _overwhelmed_. She worked on a tofurkey sandwich while Quinn bit into a cookie wedged between two brownies, and it was like she'd plugged herself in to charge.

"We…have nice friends." Quinn mumbled, hand over her mouth.

Rachel hummed. Their friends had their moments. She kicked off her shoes and rolled her sweats up to her knees and lounged back in the grass, still chewing on her sandwich.

"Don't choke." Quinn warned, eyes focused entirely on her brownie behind her sunglasses. She coughed violently on a chunk and then took a deep, shuddering breath when she'd cleared it from her throat.

"Dome jogue." Rachel chided around her mouthful.

Quinn lay back next to her, glowing in the sun, and then tilted her head and smiled so that Rachel could see the brownie bit she'd purposely lodged in her teeth.

Rachel snorted and shoved her away. "Don't be gross."

"I made you laugh."

"I can't see your eyes." Rachel reached up to pluck the sunglasses off her wife's face, and Quinn batted her hand away.

"It's too bright." She whined.

"Because you haven't been outside for _days_, bear."

Quinn was silent for a second, and Rachel coughed on her sandwich and was forced to sit up on her elbows to finish it.

"I miss him." Quinn sighed, playing with the back of Rachel's shirt.

Rachel looked down at her fondly. "It's been twenty minutes."

"I want to go home and see him again." Quinn admitted, pressing her fingers into her brownie sandwich. "Polar bears live in dens with their babies for four months. They _never_ get a break."

"They're bears." Rachel lay back down, without her sandwich this time, and she twisted Quinn's arm around so that she could put her head on her wife's shoulder. Quinn held her closely.

"And they say goodbye to their babies at some point." Rachel mused, not entirely sure. "We'll have ours _forever_."

Quinn hummed. "Old like elephants."

"I miss him too." Rachel declared, suddenly hit with the image of James's chubby, red cheeks and tiny toes and blonde eyelashes just like Quinn's. Even when he cried, he twisted his round little fists about, and it was irresistible.

"We'll go home soon." Quinn assured quietly.

Her brownie rested on her stomach now, and her eyes were closed, face tilted towards Rachel's in the sun. She smelled like baby powder and cookies, and Rachel slept peacefully in the grass for the first time in a week.


	28. Chapter 28

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 28: Put Your Eyes to the Sun and Say I Know**

"Just…lean forward, hun." Leroy urged, gripping Rachel's chin. "Don't let it run down your throat."

Rachel groaned in disgust and tipped forward on the couch. She kept a hand on the towel over her nose and watched Quinn's bare feet shuffle in circles around the living room, James in her arms.

"Think happy thoughts!" Hiram called brightly from the breakfast bar.

"I'b mot appy." Rachel muttered to the floor.

It had happened so suddenly. One minute she was delightedly showing her fathers the pictures from the hospital, and the next she was tasting blood, tilting dizzyingly into her dad's side, and listening to her daddy's voice in the background yelling "Don't get blood on the photos!"

"Have you been drinking coffee?" Quinn accused, brow furrowed, settling James into the baby carrier.

Rachel really hadn't been drinking coffee. She'd switched to caffeinated tea, which was probably just as bad, but there was no other way to roll her out of bed at all hours of the night. She looked up and shook her head and swallowed a mouthful of blood, and then coughed and whined in revulsion

Quinn's accusatory expression faded to concern. "Oh, baby."

Rachel garbled into the towel, eyes peeking out the top.

"You know, she's always been like this." Hiram proclaimed, propping his elbows on the counter like this was an everyday occurrence. "So much life in there for such a little body. We made her breakfast in bed for her twelfth birthday and she actually passed out in her pillows."

"I dibn't." Rachel protested, leaning into Quinn when her wife settled next to her on the couch.

"_Right_ into the blueberry waffles." Hiram laughed. "You were so excited."

"So she's-it's always been like this?" Quinn wondered. She softly plucked Rachel's hair away from the towel and tucked it behind her ear. "Where she's…sort of…"

"Excitable?" Leroy guessed, grinning at Quinn. "So incredibly enthusiastic that her body can't handle the stress?"

Rachel scoffed indelicately. She knew she got carried away sometimes. Picked up and spun right round the bend. But she wasn't an _invalid_.

Quinn gazed uncertainly at Leroy. "It's not-it just seems to be progressing."

"Well, you have a baby!" Hiram's voice boomed as he strolled over to lift James from his carrier. "King James! It's certainly a tumultuous time for you both."

"Diet and exercise, and Rachel will be fine." Leroy assured Quinn, more gently than his husband. Hiram cooed into James's face, tickling his little fists with an index finger.

"I'b ride here." Rachel mumbled.

Quinn squeezed her hand and leaned forward to catch her eye. "Are you dizzy, baby? Do you need ice? And where have you hidden the coffee?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I don' hab any."

Quinn studied her carefully, and Rachel snorted at her wife's dubious expression. Hazel eyes sparkled at the sound.

"Then I'm throwing away your caffeinated tea," Quinn drawled, scrunching up her nose at the mention of it, "because it's just coffee in disguise, and you're not getting away with it anymore."

"Are you imblying you were ledding me ged away with it?"

Hiram made some kind of amused "oooh" noise in the background and Rachel's lips twitched.

"I'm-yeah." Quinn nodded and smiled sweetly. "Yes, I was. But no more. I'll bring you tea and honey instead. And Blaine and Kurt are supposed to be-"

"Doorbell!" Leroy declared as the bell interrupted Quinn's sentence, and he vanished down the stairs to let their friends inside.

It was a three-man stampede barreling up the stairs, and Kurt was the first to charge into the living room, followed by a slightly more in-control Blaine. They both took one look at Rachel and spun away with matching grimaces.

Quinn tipped sideways and kissed her wife's cheek.

"Did Jimbo get you?" Kurt remarked, hand over his eyes. "He punched you, didn't he? Like when you broke it in high school. I can't look or I'll throw up."

Blaine hummed vaguely and smiled at Quinn and Rachel and her fathers. "We just have some news we wanted to share with you guys."

Rachel perked up immediately. She pulled the towel away from her face, ignoring Kurt's exaggerated gagging, and wiped around her nose with Quinn's help.

"Your poor nose." Quinn murmured, looking only slightly disgusted.

"Attention!" Kurt clapped his hands and Rachel sniffed sharply to test if she could breathe.

She could not, so she breathed hopelessly through her mouth. Kurt was watching her like she was a child covered in something sticky.

Quinn snapped her fingers, eyebrow raised, and Rachel laughed shortly at everybody's surprise.

"_Blaine_ and I…" Kurt spoke slowly and deliberately, meeting Hiram and Leroy's eyes before dropping back to Rachel and Quinn. Blaine grinned and rocked on his heels. "Are adopting a child."

Rachel choked on her breath, and then devolved into a coughing fit when she couldn't catch it again, and Hiram and Leroy whooped while Quinn made sure her wife didn't asphyxiate herself.

"Wait, wait, there's more." Blaine announced loudly, pulling a picture out of his jacket pocket.

Rachel settled herself and breathed through her mouth, swallowing whatever was in her throat, and her hands clutched tightly onto Quinn's forearm.

"We've actually started the process already, and this is the boy we're trying to adopt." Blaine held the picture out proudly, and Quinn accepted it with Rachel leaning impatiently into her side. "He's six, and his name is Ralph."

Rachel gasped at exactly the same moment as Quinn, recognition dawning for both of them.

It was Simba, from the Gerrard Home, and Rachel clutched her mouth and then her nose and squealed in delight.

"He's-you're-" Quinn fumbled and tapped her fingers against the picture like she wasn't sure if it was real.

"That's wonderful!" Hiram congratulated jovially. He glanced down at the baby in his arms and rocked lightly on his heels. "Isn't that wonderful, James? That's absolutely wonderful."

Rachel was still having trouble breathing, but Quinn managed to pry her arm out of her wife's grasp to get off the couch and approach Kurt and Blaine for tearful hugs.

"That's so-it's-I'm don't-I don't-"

Kurt chuckled.

"Bear." Rachel laughed, tossing a balled up paper towel at Quinn's back.

Quinn stopped talking and glanced behind her, sniffling and flushed, and Rachel smiled. Quinn turned and hugged their friends again.

Rachel ran her fingers over the picture, vibrating with excitement. She kept a hand over her nose just to be sure, because this was just the kind of thing that would carry her away. Simba, with his dark eyes and floppy hair and speed like a little cat, would have a home.

~oooooooooooo~

In an attempt to assuage some of her co-stars' minor accusations that she had been "neglecting" them, Rachel went out with them after her show on Thursday night. She hadn't meant to stay out past midnight, but anywhere a baby wasn't crying, _screaming_ his head off at all hours of the night, was where she wanted to be. And that place happened to be a bar, disorderly and loud and blessedly free of spit-up and diapers and bawling.

So Rachel stalked carefully up the stairs of her apartment at one in the morning, leaning against the wall and trying not to wake her dads or Quinn or the baby or the animals.

There were so many ears. She was bound to wake _all of them_ up.

Rachel caught her toe on the last step and tumbled gracefully to the floor, slinging her bag several feet into the living room.

"Shit. _Shit_." She muttered, palms braced on the hardwood, wondering if the ground was actually moving beneath her. Maybe an earthquake? Maybe she'd stood up and started walking again without realizing it.

"Wow." A voice remarked, and Rachel nearly tipped back down the staircase when she realized Quinn was sitting on the couch in fuzzy pajamas and bed hair, surveying Rachel and looking unamused.

"Hey…baby." Rachel stood up straight and leaned nonchalantly against the wall. "Are you-is everything okay? Why is-why aren't you in bed?"

Quinn narrowed her eyes. "Are you seriously drunk?"

"Mmm not." Rachel answered honestly. Tipsy, buzzed, and exhausted, but not drunk. She had enough problems waking up in the morning as it was, thank you very much.

"Why were you out so late?" Quinn asked, glancing at the clock on the cable box.

Rachel pushed off the wall, which gave her so much momentum that she had to stop herself with the back of the armchair. "Mark was my ride home, and it was hard dragging him away."

Quinn watched Rachel slide heavily into the chair. "You could've gotten a cab."

Rachel sighed. "I was enjoying myself, baby."

"Well-I thought-you said you'd be home by eleven."

"I know, bear." Rachel relaxed into the chair and eyed Quinn's furrowed brow. "I'm sorry. Let's go-"

"_I_ haven't even been to sleep yet." Quinn broke in quietly, annoyed, eyes on Rachel's bag slung halfway across the room. "He was crying for _hours_. And then your dad took him and did this rocking thing he used to do with you, and he only just fell asleep."

Rachel smiled sadly, blearily, because she wasn't really sure what was going on at the moment.

"He just-he just keeps spitting up, like he just abhors milk or something, and I need you here because you're the-the only one who-the one-" Quinn huffed in frustration and shook her head.

Rachel frowned in concentration. "The only one who what?" It was a confusing question, and she wasn't actually sure what she'd asked. "Wait, what?"

Rachel's interface skills just seemed to degenerate in the night.

Quinn blew out her cheeks and stared at her wife. "The only who makes me feel like I'm not absolutely incompetent at this-this _having a baby_…thing. Endeavor. I don't know."

Rachel watched her carefully, soaking up this new information and letting it tug at her heart.

"I just missed you." Quinn added quietly, playing with her fraying sweatshirt sleeves. "I know you're-you're just as inept as I am-"

Rachel opened her mouth to voice some kind of offense to that.

"-but I need you here. Please."

Rachel got up slowly, steadily, and took a few stilted steps around the coffee table in Quinn's direction. "Bear." She said softly, unprepared for any kind of conversation right now. "Let's go to bed, okay? We can-"

"You're sleeping on the couch." Quinn interrupted, eyes on Rachel's collar, completely serious.

There was no sparkle in her expression, no twitch in her lips, no tapping fingers to let Rachel know she was playing. Rachel's mouth dropped open in shock.

"Are you-are you _serious_?" She asked loudly, eyes wide, and Quinn shushed her immediately.

"Going out with your cast is _great_, and I'm so glad you had fun." Quinn stage-whispered, eyes still on Rachel's collar. "But you can't just trip up the stairs at one in the morning when you have a newborn and a wife who need you. And we need you in your right mind, not buzzed out of your beautiful little head."

Rachel's mouth opened and closed, words catching repeatedly in her throat. She couldn't believe she was being relegated to the couch.

Quinn was making her sleep on the couch. She wondered if she'd fallen back down the stairs and hit her head. Maybe she tumbled right into a dream.

"So…goodnight." Quinn said shortly, standing up and moving towards the hallway.

"Bear, let me see your eyes." Rachel said impulsively, noticing that Quinn's gaze had never left the collar of her jacket.

Quinn complied, briefly, and locked eyes with Rachel from the hallway. Quiet and annoyed and sad, in a tired way, where everything just builds up in the middle of the night. Molehills turn into mountains at one in the morning.

Rachel nodded slightly. "Goodnight, baby." She murmured.

And then she pried off her boots and grabbed a fleece blanket and settled into her bed for the night.

~ooooooooooo~

It only took an hour for Quinn to come back to the living room. Rachel hadn't fallen asleep, and she watched Quinn's fluffy green socks as her wife loomed over her. And then Quinn crawled carefully onto the couch, wedging herself between Rachel and the pillows and hugging Rachel like one would hug a porcupine. When Rachel didn't protest, Quinn squeezed her tightly and pressed her nose into Rachel's hair.

Rachel smiled against the fleecy blanket.

"Are you awake, little bear?" Quinn mumbled against the back of her head.

Rachel hummed. "You know I am."

An hour of complete, rare silence and darkness, and Rachel was still awake. She hadn't slept alone in seven years.

"I don't think I can sleep without you." Quinn said quietly. She extracted an arm from Rachel and pulled the blanket up to their heads, scooting right up against Rachel's back for warmth.

Blonde hair fell over Rachel's ear, and she brushed it away and smiled at Quinn's breath on her cheek. "Me neither, baby."

Quinn sighed deeply, like she'd been holding it in for an hour. "Do you think-are you alright?" she wondered hesitantly.

Rachel blinked sleepily into the darkness. "What do you mean?"

"You told me to tell you if I felt sad or odd or anything at all, and I will, and I _have_, but you have to do the same." Quinn tapped her fingers over Rachel's stomach.

"I'm not the one who gave birth." Rachel drawled.

"No. But-" Quinn shook her head and fidgeted, and then sat up and nudged Rachel's shoulder. "Baby, roll over. I need to see your face."

Rachel groaned exaggeratedly, so comfortable and warm. "I can't. I'm stuck."

"I'll unstick you." Quinn chuckled, pulling on Rachel's shoulder until she rolled onto her back. Rachel lifted an eyebrow and stared expectantly up into hazel eyes.

Quinn patted down her dark hair. "You know…baby blues, right?"

Rachel hummed a yes.

Quinn bit her lip. "Maybe-maybe you've got a bit of the baby blues."

"Quinn, _you_ had the baby, the hormones-"

"I was talking with your dads." Quinn plowed on, tapping Rachel's cheeks. "They were teaching me how to make marshmallow cookies, which they said were your favorite when you were a little girl. You liked to make lots of yellow icing and turn them all into stars, and it's actually a really easy recipe, and have you ever tried those jumbo marshmallows? I gave one to Cornelius and it took him about an hour to swallow the whole-"

"_Quinn_, what?" Rachel snorted and tugged on Quinn's hair.

Quinn blinked. "I'm-I was-we were making…"

"Focus." Rachel whispered fondly. "You were talking with my dads."

"You-you have such a big heart," Quinn said earnestly, "and you're so empathetic and passionate and lovely, and _you_ have a brand new baby too, so-I mean, baby blues isn't totally out of the question. It's a lot of change, for both of us."

Rachel mulled this over, twisting strands of blonde hair around her fingers.

"Baby blues." She repeated quietly.

"Are you happy?" Quinn asked cautiously, like she was scared to hear the answer.

"_Of course_ I'm happy." Rachel replied immediately. Honestly.

Quinn searched her eyes. "Because if you're not-if you're…too stressed or over-worked or sad or angry, please tell me."

"I am so…_overwhelmingly_ happy that it stresses me out sometimes." Rachel said slowly, and then laughed because it sounded ridiculous.

"So tonight, you really did just...have trouble getting a ride home?" Quinn wondered. "You weren't…drinking or-or anything because you needed a break from us?"

Rachel sighed. She sat up fully and draped her legs over Quinn's lap and tugged on her wife's ears so that she knew she had her full attention.

"There's nowhere I would rather be than home with you and Jimbo." She assured. "My bears."

Quinn's lips twitched.

"But I think it's-it's _okay_ to need a break from that. From the baby." Rachel remarked. "Because it's just-I mean, it's endless sleep deprivation and crying, right? But taking a little break just makes me fall in love with James more, because all I remember is his chubby cheeks and tiny fingers and Pooh Bear ears that you put him in this morning."

Quinn nodded slowly, eyes fixed on Rachel's.

"And…a break from _you_ isn't really fun at all." Rachel mused. She tilted her head thoughtfully. "But, I think-I think I love you more every time I see you, and I don't know how."

Quinn pressed her lips together to suppress her smile. "I'm lovable. It's understandable."

Rachel snorted and tipped backwards against the arm of the couch. "God, why are you always around? Go sleep in your own bed, big bear."

"You called me lovable." Quinn remarked, wedging herself next to Rachel again.

"You called _yourself_ lovable. Which is-that's weird."

"No." Quinn said simply, trying to force Rachel's resistant arms to wrap around her.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there tonight." Rachel said, choosing to ignore Quinn's actions altogether. "I'll-we'll plan it better next time."

"Rachel, give me your arms." Quinn complained, forcibly prying them away from Rachel's body.

Rachel laughed and relented and wrapped Quinn in a hug.

"You smell like a bar." Quinn muttered a minute later.

"Stop complaining." Rachel breathed. "You smell like marshmallows."

Quinn smiled against Rachel's ear. "Would you like some marshmallow cookies?"

"It's two in the morning. I'd like to sleep, please."

"Your dads said they would take care of James for the rest of the night, if he cries."

Rachel opened her eyes and met Quinn's, sparkling in the dim light.

"We're not incompetent, you know." She remarked, smiling slightly. "What you said earlier? We're not inept or incompetent. We're new, and our baby is healthy and warm, and we're learning."

Quinn's smile faded until it was soft and genuine. "See. That's what you do."

"What?"

"You make everything better."

Rachel smiled. That sounded familiar.

"Cornelius was swallowing jumbo marshmallows whole today, and I took a video because I knew you'd like it."

Rachel's shoulders shook at the thought. Not of Seal, but of Quinn videotaping him on the floor of the kitchen, encouraging him to eat giant marshmallows while she waited for the cookies in the oven.

"Love you, baby." She murmured.

Quinn kissed her head. "I love you, Rachel."

There was a faint "aww" in the background. Dogs or dads or cats, Rachel was too tired to find out the source.

~ooooooooooooo~

Yoga, when not performed with giant rubber balls, turned out to be a relaxing activity. Rachel figured it was time to take it seriously, because she had a family to think about, so she bought a book and mastered most of the positions in two days.

Some were absolutely ridiculous and bound to result in some kind of spinal cord injury, so she stuck to the ones that her human limbs could actually pull off.

She was doing the "wide-legged forward bend" next to the dining table when Quinn slipped into the room, baby carrier in hand, and settled James on the floor next to the yoga mat. Rachel watched her upside down, face turning red, and Quinn grinned and sidled up right behind her and rested her hands lightly on Rachel's hips.

"I like your yoga pants, baby." Quinn complimented sweetly, flush with Rachel's backside.

Rachel snorted and wiggled around. "Let me go, bear. I'm trying to do yoga."

"You should wear them more often." Quinn remarked, smile growing with Rachel's movement.

"Quinn, my dads could walk in."

"You're the one bent over with your cute little butt pressed against my-"

"_Okay_." Rachel declared, straightening up and flushing and wondering how impressionable James was at four weeks old. "That's enough from you."

Quinn kept smiling.

"What are you even doing?" Rachel wondered, taking in her wife's appearance and guarding against any games Quinn was trying to start. Sweats, t-shirt, wet hair tied back. Rachel smirked. "You should wear some yoga pants, baby."

Quinn's smile faltered slightly. "I'm…Not yet, I don't think."

"You're gorgeous."

"I'm-we-I just came to-" Quinn flushed and stuttered and Rachel smiled. "James wanted to go-to join mama, so we came to do yoga with you."

Rachel hummed. "He told you that, did he?"

"He likes talking to mommy." Quinn nodded sagely.

"What else does he say?"

Quinn shrugged and crouched down to lay a small blanket next to the yoga mat. "He's not very verbose yet. He said mama needs to feed mommy more cupcakes, and you know he's-he's _four weeks_ old, so you should probably listen to him."

Rachel's "tree pose" swayed with silent laughter.

"And I'm sure if we give him more exposure to you, he'll be talking our heads off in no time." Quinn rambled on, settling James onto the blanket, flat on his back in little dinosaur footie pajamas. "We will just _never_ be able to shut him up if you teach him how to talk. Just on and on-"

"Hey." Rachel interrupted, biting her cheek. "Shut it, bear."

"We're ready." Quinn declared. She glanced at Rachel and tried to copy her pose, one leg lifted with her arms in the air. "James, stand up. You have to be a tree."

"Somebody thinks they're funny this morning." Rachel observed, amused, heart fluttering like it always did and reminding her why she fell in love with this fool.

"Time to stand up, Jon Bon." Quinn instructed wisely. "Use those chubby little legs."

James blinked his eyes open, brow furrowed, fists clenched under his cheeks. He stretched his legs out, and his lips twitched almost into a smile while Quinn and Rachel watched intently. And then he kicked his feet and lifted his head, and Rachel gasped and seized Quinn's arm.

"Oh my-oh my God!" she shrieked, spinning in place to find her phone or a camera or anything that could record this.

Quinn was watching James, absolutely bewildered, like he was trying to stand up simply because she'd told him to.

"He's lifting his head!" Rachel squealed, switching her iPhone to video mode and crouching down to record James's movement. "He's lifting-oh _my_! Good job, Jimbo! You're so-he's so-good job!"

Talented little boy.

Quinn hurried around to James's other side. "Get-do it from this angle, Rachel! So you can see-see how high he's lifting it." She smiled widely when Rachel squatted next to her. "You're so strong, little boy!"

"I'm so proud." Rachel murmured, focused on zooming in on James's face. There were actually tears in her eyes.

Quinn jabbed her in the ribs and tilted into Rachel's side to see what she was recording. "I told you he wanted to do yoga with mama. He's working those neck muscles."

Rachel snorted, absolutely delighted.

"You've zoomed in too much. All you can see is his cheek."

"I don't know-I don't-how do I do it?" Rachel asked frantically, having thoroughly lost control of herself.

Quinn pried the phone out of Rachel's hand and refocused it on James's wide-eyed expression.

"_What_ is going on in here?" Hiram asked loudly, gliding into the room in work-out clothes and an excited expression. Leroy followed, and they raised their eyebrows at Rachel and Quinn crouched on the floor, looming over James with an iPhone in hand and tears in their eyes.

Fools. All of them.

"He lifted his head!" Rachel shrieked.

"Volume, baby." Quinn muttered, absently patting Rachel's thigh.

Leroy gasped and rushed forward, and he rested his hands on Rachel's and Quinn's heads so he could lean over to see James. "Look at him go!"

"Dad, daddy, why are you dressed like that?" Rachel asked, having caught sight of them in her peripheral vision. "Are you on a fitness kick again? If you go running out there and collapse in the street, don't come crying to me when-"

"Hush, you." Hiram chided, joining the crowd around the baby.

James wasn't lifting his head anymore, having tired himself out, and he stared at his family with wide, calm, blue-gray eyes. Quinn sat back on her heels and turned off Rachel's phone.

"That's my grandbaby." Hiram nodded proudly.

"We came to do yoga with you." Leroy informed, pulling up his leg warmers. "You're doing this for your health, and we want to show support."

Rachel was filled with warmth. She smiled and nodded and grasped her dads' hands, and then stood up and returned to her own mat. Her dads went to the other side of the table, and Quinn followed Rachel.

"This was your idea, wasn't it?" Rachel asked quietly, pulling her wife up against her.

Quinn smiled sweetly and kissed Rachel's forehead. "I like your yoga pants, little bear."


	29. Chapter 29

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 29: Just Make It with a Big Bambino**

"Oh, what a sweetheart! How old is he?"

Rachel looked up and beamed. She and Quinn lay on a picnic blanket in Central Park with James stretched out between them. He was on his back-fists in the air-staring wide eyed up at the tree above them. Quinn dangled a carrot in front of his face.

"He's nine weeks." Rachel chirped.

The woman's face lit up in recognition. "You're Rachel Berry!"

Quinn cut her eyes over to this stranger.

"I am, yes." Rachel chuckled. She briefly wondered if this was all an elaborate ploy to get a picture of her or James. Psychopaths were meticulous in their planning.

"I was so excited when I read that you two had had your baby. He's going to be so talented and beautiful." The woman gushed. "I have four kids of my own and you guys are just going to have so much fun."

Rachel smiled at her excitement. "Thank you! That's so sweet of you to say."

"My kids used to love the park too. We'd bring them on picnics when they were babies just to get out of the house for a while."

Quinn rolled over onto her stomach and tickled James's tummy. She kissed his cheek and babbled in his ear, tuning out the conversation.

"You should have pictures taken." The woman continued. "I know a lot of people who'd love to share this with you, if you'd like. He's absolutely gorgeous."

Rachel couldn't argue with somebody who rained so many compliments down on her little boy.

"We'll certainly consider that."

Quinn blew loudly on James's belly. His little fists tangled absently in her blonde hair.

"They're sweethearts." The woman remarked. She rocked on her heels and smiled knowingly as she watched Rachel watch them.

It's not like Rachel could disagree. Quinn picked up James's arm and pretended to bite into it.

"It was so nice to meet you, Mrs. Berry." The stranger took a step back and lifted her hand. "And Quinn and your boy. I hope you all have a nice day. My husband and dog were supposed to be waiting but they've probably left without me!"

Quinn sat abruptly up on her shoulder. "What kind of dog do you have?"

The woman looked mildly surprised. "A collie actually."

Rachel laughed when her wife's eyes lit up.

"I bet he likes herding your family." Quinn smiled at her feet. "Walking behind you, nibbling at your legs, keeping everyone together. What's his name?"

"Baby, she has to go before her husband leaves her behind." Rachel joked.

The woman stopped and smiled, pleased to have piqued Quinn's interest. "His name's Rocky. He's six."

"Does he have-"

"Quinn, let the poor woman go." Rachel pressed, tossing a grape at her wife.

Quinn dug it out of her lap and threw it right back. "Stop throwing things, _Rachel._" She glanced back up at the woman and smiled nicely. "Tell-tell Rocky we say hello. He sounds lovely."

Rachel waved good bye as the woman walked away, and then got up and moved around James to lie right next to Quinn. Quinn scoffed and huffed and tried to push her away, but Rachel held fast. She calmly rested her head on Quinn's shoulder while Quinn squirmed and poked at her cheeks and back and ribs.

"Ew. What is this?" she drawled, nose scrunched up. She prodded Rachel's side. "Jimbo, look, there's a giant bug on me. This is disgusting. What is it? I can't get it off."

Rachel devolved into laughter in Quinn's neck.

"Oh my God, James, it makes noises!"

"Did you call me disgusting?" Rachel asked against Quinn's ear.

"This is-this is repulsive. I need to squash it." Quinn continued, straight-faced. "It's talking now. James, it's latched onto me like a parasite. I need you to get help."

Rachel laughed loudly, swatting at Quinn's arms. "Shut your face, bear."

"Okay, okay, I think I've angered it." Quinn jabbed Rachel's sides and squeezed her closer. "It's turning violent. James, this bug is huge."

"I'll bite you." Rachel threatened.

"It bites, James!" Quinn rolled them over until she was on top of Rachel. She met Rachel's eyes and smiled. "This is just revolting. I can't get rid of her."

"Stop calling me names." Rachel tried to scold.

She was smiling so widely that it was ineffective.

Quinn squeezed Rachel's cheeks together. "Oh wait, James, it's not a bug; it's only mama."

"You think you're funny."

"I think you look hot in your little shorts."

Rachel gasped. A laugh worked its way out as well. "_Quinn_."

Sitting under a tree in Central Park, this was not like her. Quinn grinned and nuzzled Rachel's cheek.

"You have grass in your hair." Rachel informed wryly, picking it out and flicking it away.

Quinn sighed and propped herself up and fixed Rachel with a scolding gaze. "God, Rachel. Stop playing around. Pay attention to our baby before he gets up and runs away."

Rachel was shoved gently backwards until she sat on her folded legs next to James.

"Mommy's being silly today, isn't she James?" she leaned down and whispered.

Quinn rolled onto her stomach and slithered forward until she was at Rachel's side. She smiled down at James and tapped one of his flushed, chubby cheeks. He kicked his legs in the air and grabbed his feet and made an "ohh" sound.

Rachel tried to mimic it and Quinn snorted and then covered her nose.

"How do you get him to make noises?" Rachel wondered longingly. She tapped the front of his sunshine yellow onesie.

Quinn shrugged, amused. "He's not a Furby, baby."

But they were similar. Constantly making noise throughout the night-despite all efforts to the contrary-speaking their own language, blinking wide blue eyes.

Rachel rolled her eyes. She sat up straight and glanced around and did a double-take at a little clump of people several yards away. Her first thought was that they'd been watching her, but she realized they were looking down at a dog. Rachel's view was blocked, but there were a couple of guys kneeling, another standing up, and a woman and some kids.

She nudged Quinn's shoulder. "Look, babe."

Quinn peered where Rachel nodded and narrowed her eyes. As they watched, a woman stepped out of the way and they got a clear view of the dog-a large black mutt with floppy ears and a fluffy tail.

He was pawing a bit, but not standing up, and one of the guys starting frantically pushing on his abdomen.

Quinn scrambled up immediately. "What…" She wavered in a sort of lunge position, watching critically.

"Baby, go. Go." Rachel urged, nudging Quinn's back. Quinn was off in a flash. Rachel scooped James up and held him closely against her chest and followed.

The small crowd looked bewildered at Quinn, who crouched quickly at the dog's side and pushed the guy away.

"She's a vet." Rachel supplied. They glanced at her worriedly. "She's-it's okay."

She remembered what it was like rushing Cornelius around with a bone lodged in his throat. Panicked and anxious and desperate for anybody who could help.

"We thought-we thought he might have something stuck in his throat." One of the guys-about their age, in a Yankees cap-explained. "We were-he was just lying there, totally fine, and he started shaking and I don't know if he can breathe-"

Quinn jammed her hand into the dog's mouth, wedging it against her knee. She ran her other one over his throat, and then down to palpate his abdomen.

"Has he been supervised the whole time? Eaten anything? Swallowed any-shhhi-oot." Quinn seized the dog's nose as the tremors increased abruptly. She stretched it out so that his airway was as clear as possible.

"We-no, we weren't watching him earlier." A woman answered, wringing her hands together. A little girl clung to her leg, watching the dog's face.

Rachel bit her lip and held James closely. He was asleep, blissfully oblivious.

"It-he's-his mouth is swelling." Quinn's eyes darted around. "He's eaten something-a plant or a poisonous bug or something. We need-does anyone have peroxide? A first-aid kit or anything?"

The guy in the Yankees cap shook his head. "We could run home? Or-"

"No, that's not-he's about to-" Quinn ran a hand through her hair and glanced around quickly. "Where's-where-"

Rachel stepped forward when she realized Quinn was looking for her. "What do you need, baby?"

Quinn's eyes landed on her, urgent but controlled. Quinn still had a hand in the dog's mouth, holding his tongue out of his throat.

"Salt. We brought-for those vegan cracker things-you brought salt, right? Like a big-we need like-like half a cup."

Rachel nodded quickly. One of the guys followed her when he realized she was carrying a baby, and she directed him to the pouch in her picnic basket that held the fairly large salt and pepper shakers. He removed the salt, pried off the top, and hurried back to Quinn with Rachel on his heels.

Quinn shifted and wedged the dog's head between her knees. He squirmed and pawed, but she murmured quietly in his ear and held him solidly. She pried open his jaw, eyed the amount of salt in the shaker, and dumped it carefully into the back of his throat. Then she held his jaw closed, tipped his head back, and waited until she watched him swallow.

"What's-what's that for?" the little girl asked hesitantly.

Quinn looked over and smiled slightly, still squeezing the dog's head to hold off the tremors. "Your dog has something funny in his tummy, so we're just trying to get it out, honey."

Rachel smiled.

"So it'll make him throw up?" The girl scrunched up her nose.

Quinn nodded. "He'll feel better." She looked up at the adults milling about in various stages of anxiety. She seemed to suddenly realize all eyes were on her, and she flushed and looked back at the dog. "You'll-you'll want to take him straight to your vet. They'll probably pump his stomach or give him charcoal to neutralize what-whatever he ate."

"His name's Badger." The little girl provided.

"Badger." Quinn repeated. She leaned towards the girl. "Did you-did you know they're the world's fastest diggers? Faster than a dog or a person with a shovel or anything else."

"Really?" The girl let go of her mom's hand and stepped forward.

"Really. I can-there are real ones at the zoo I can show you."

The girl gasped, fascinated. "You work at the zoo?"

Rachel almost laughed. She could _feel_ the adults around her falling in love with her wife. She kissed James's head and rocked him lightly, eyes on Quinn's careful hands holding Badger's head.

Quinn was ready to reply when Badger started making deep, guttural noises. It was a familiar sound. Cornelius and Barnaby ate so much junk that Rachel knew exactly what came next. Quinn shifted out from under the dog, tipped his head forward, and let go of his tongue.

The throaty noises got louder until he vomited-green and red and not normal at all-and Quinn let go of his ears once she realized he could hold his head up. He threw up twice more, panting heavily, and his eyes were brighter already.

His tail flopped against the ground when Quinn scratched his head. She stood up and gestured that it was alright for the guy in the Yankees cap to pick Badger up, and Quinn stepped out of the way and ran a shaky hand through her hair.

She nodded sweetly at everybody who thanked her profusely. "It's what I-it's no problem. You're very welcome."

A few people clapped her on the back, and she rocked on her heels and watched the young family hurry away with Badger.

Rachel sidled up behind her with James in her arms and hip-checked Quinn's butt. Quinn spun, surprised, and flushed at Rachel's expression.

"I love you, baby." Rachel gushed quietly. "James says that was very cool and he's so proud of you."

Quinn rolled her eyes and pressed her lips together.

"He says it got a little gross at the end, but he can overlook that because mommy saved a puppy dog." Rachel rambled.

"I'm sure he did."

Rachel smiled and moved to hand James over to Quinn, but Quinn held up her hands and Rachel remembered that they'd been jammed down Badger's throat. She grimaced and kept James close to her own chest. They probably needed to leave before their baby ended up with a tan.

Quinn gathered up their picnic supplies and locked the baby carrier into the stroller. Rachel settled James in, and then wandered over to Quinn and wrapped her arms around her waist from behind.

Quinn groaned immediately. "Oh my God, that bug's back. I thought I squashed it."

Rachel laughed into the back of her neck.

~oooooooooooo~

It was hard to remember the last time they'd slept in together. James seemed to be having a quiet night, and Rachel kicked off her sheets because she was overheating and rolled clumsily towards Quinn. Quinn grumbled into her pillow. She reached an arm around Rachel's back and dragged her closer.

"Why are you so hot?" she mumbled.

"Same reason you're naked, bear."

Quinn blinked open her eyes, confused. She lifted her head and glanced down at herself. "Where are my pajamas?"

Rachel smiled. "You must have taken them off in the night."

Quinn nodded absently and sighed.

"Are you awake enough to talk, baby?"

Quinn grunted.

"Good." Rachel chirped. She rolled her eyes around her head while she thought and rubbed Quinn's back to make sure she didn't fall back asleep. "I think we should start working out a schedule for you to go back to work."

Quinn watched her blearily, half of her face hidden.

"You miss it, right? Especially after yesterday." Rachel checked. She tapped Quinn's warm cheek, eager for some kind of response even though she already knew the answer.

Quinn nodded against her pillow.

"So I think as long as we keep breast milk in the fridge, you can go to work during the day and I'll have my shows during the evenings, and we won't even need to hire anybody to watch James."

Quinn rubbed at her eyes. "I'm so hot." she complained quietly.

Rachel kicked the sheets all the way to the bottom of the bed, shamelessly raking her eyes down Quinn's body on the way. She glowed in the sun coming through the curtains.

"Do you agree? We won't need to hire anybody, right?" Rachel pressed. She brushed the hair out of Quinn's face and played with Quinn's fingers.

Quinn frowned in concentration. "If you-sometimes you have rehearsals and interviews during the day. What then?"

"Then…we ask Santana and Britt or Kurt and Blaine or Puck. We have many options."

"I think you just don't want a stranger looking after our baby." Quinn smiled softly, tired.

Rachel scoffed. Her eyes shifted up to the ceiling fan.

"We're not going to leave him with some stranger." Quinn assured. "If we do hire somebody, they will be professional and wonderful and we will know them backwards and forwards."

"But we still won't _know_ them." Rachel argued.

Quinn narrowed her eyes. "Like…biblically?"

Rachel scoffed even louder. She squeezed Quinn's fingers and dropped her fist lightly against the bed. "Don't be dense."

"Then spell it out for me, baby." Quinn drawled, propping her head up with her hand.

Rachel licked her lips and hemmed around and spun the wedding ring on Quinn's finger.

"Rachel…" Quinn whispered. "What's wrong? Do I need to put some clothes on?"

"I don't want-I don't-" Rachel sighed, exasperated. She shook her head and stared at Quinn's mouth. "I don't want somebody else looking after him. He already likes you better than me. What if…he'll just grow attached to more people."

Quinn's mouth dropped open slightly in surprise. "He already…what?"

"He…he holds up his little hands for you. He makes noises for you." Rachel described, feeling like she was shrinking with every word. "It's not a surprise, since I'm not really-"

"_Don't_ finish that sentence, Rachel." Quinn said sharply, taking hold of her wrist.

Rachel met her hard gaze, heart beating wildly. "I'm-I wasn't going to say what you think I was."

Quinn searched her face.

"I promise, bear." Rachel soothed. "I was going to say since I don't have as much one on one contact with him as you do. Breastfeeding and all. He-it's only natural he likes you better."

Quinn's expression softened. She looked mildly distressed-complemented by messy blonde bed hair- and she refused to release Rachel's wrist. "He doesn't like me better. That's ridiculous."

"It's not ridiculous."

"Rachel." Quinn's voice was pained. She tipped forward-wide awake now-and forced Rachel to look at her.

"What?" Rachel mumbled. She bent Quinn's fingers back and forth.

"He loves you just as much as he loves me."

"I know he _loves_ me, but he doesn't like me." Rachel was feeling increasingly stupid with this conversation.

Quinn traced the slight dimple in her cheek. "You know Hiram told me that you used to spit up _all the time_ on him. It was only him. You would be happy and jolly with Leroy, and then he'd hand you to Hiram and everything would just come back up."

"I don't like milk." Rachel remarked quietly.

Quinn hummed. "You're like Jimbo, baby. Did you _choose_ to be difficult for Hiram?"

"No." Rachel mumbled.

"He's only a baby. He's just doing what babies do." Quinn assured. "He loves mommy and mama. Can't you see it in his eyes? And he told me that yesterday."

Rachel's lips twitched. "See. He talks to you. He doesn't talk to me."

Quinn grinned. She tipped further forward and tickled Rachel's side. "Really? So all those conversations you've told me you had with him were lies, little bear?"

"Nooo." Rachel dragged out, squirming away.

"So he never actually said he was proud of me? He didn't tell you that he loved those overpriced, fancy little baby tap shoes you bought him? Have you just been making this stuff up?"

Rachel laughed loudly and tried to shove Quinn's dancing hands away. "Get lost, bear."

"Okay." Quinn nodded seriously. "I'll just be down here." She pointed to the end of the end of the bed and crawled there on her hands and knees, wiggling her butt exaggeratedly. Rachel shook her head and laughed and watched her go.

Quinn turned abruptly and gently grasped Rachel's ankle to untangle her legs. Rachel was suddenly aware of where this was going. Quinn caught her eye, eyebrow raised playfully.

"That's not getting lost." Rachel remarked. She let Quinn tug down her cotton sleep shorts and underwear, and Quinn pulled her legs up and kissed both of her knees.

"I can go somewhere else if you'd like. I'll go have a nice conversation with James, or-"

"Goodness, you're annoying." Rachel drawled, shaking her head and locking her legs around Quinn. "You know you're not going anywhere."

Quinn smiled sweetly. She tipped forward and kissed Rachel's belly and then settled between her thighs.

~ooooooooooo~

James had been crying since they stepped out of the car-short, breathy wails that filled up the small photography studio. He wheeled his arms around and lolled his head from side to side, ignoring Quinn's hushing and singing and dancing.

"He's just tired." Rachel assured the photographer-a small, dark haired woman named Emily.

Emily nodded easily, adjusting the tripod. She spoke loudly to be heard over James. "This happens all the time. Usually we just start the shoot and they'll calm themselves down. It's alright if he falls asleep."

Quinn was bent over the baby carrier, in the middle of the Pooh Bear theme song.

"Honey, let's just take him out and put him where he needs to be, and then work on settling him down." Rachel suggested.

Quinn stopped singing and glanced over her shoulder. She nodded and dipped down to scoop James up, and then rocked him easily while Emily directed her where to go. James was in a simple long-sleeved onesie with navy blue stripes and buttons down the front. Quinn had barely managed to convince Rachel not to pin a bow tie to his collar.

She'd brought them anyway-one blue, one polka dot-both in her purse. Maybe she'd be able to stick one on when Quinn wasn't looking.

"He has beautiful eyes." Emily mused, helping Quinn situate James on the table. He was lying on his front with dark blue blankets tucked around his sides, bawling breathlessly.

Quinn smiled at Rachel. "Yeah, they-they match his outfit."

"Is his hair okay?" Rachel worried. She'd brought a baby comb as well, just in case the wavy tuft of blonde suddenly became tangled beyond belief.

Emily stepped back and smiled at her work. "He's perfect. I'll take a few of him crying first-sort out the lighting and everything-and then we'll need a smile."

Rachel walked over and stood by Quinn while Emily moved to her camera.

"Baby Jay, Jon Bon, King James…" Quinn sang lightly, tapping the table.

James plowed on, undeterred.

Quinn tilted her head. "Maybe he's not ready for the spotlight."

Rachel scoffed. She looped an arm through Quinn's and leaned into her side. "It's like he's getting little baby head-shots. Of course he's ready."

"Not everybody loves it like you do."

"Those eyes were born for cameras, Quinn. That face-your face-you know, you could be a movie star if you wanted." Rachel poked Quinn's side and played with the blue sash on her dress.

Quinn hummed and shook her head.

"Why not?"

"You know why not, little bear." Quinn smiled and lifted a hand to run it through her hair. Rachel seized her wrist because her hair was neat and tidy for once and she'd be damned if it turned into a fluffy blonde mess before they got their pictures taken.

"We could be a power couple." Rachel joked, pinning Quinn's wrist to her side. "You, the gorgeous movie star, me, the Broadway phenomenon. James, child prodigy."

"Gorgeous Broadway phenomenon." Quinn corrected absently.

Rachel hugged Quinn's arm and kissed her bare shoulder.

"Okay, we're ready if you'd like to try to settle him down now." Emily suggested, stepping away from her camera.

Quinn turned to Rachel immediately, smiling like she knew something Rachel didn't. "You should sing to him."

"You were doing that earlier and it wasn't working." Rachel shook her head. "We should-"

"No, Rachel, baby, just sing to him." Quinn stepped over in front of James, dragging Rachel with her. She rubbed his back a little bit, and his crying paused for a moment, but then started up even louder.

Rachel sighed. She took a breath and sang quietly-the first thing that came to mind. She really couldn't see this working. "Hey mambo, mambo Italiano…hey, hey mambo, mambo Italiano…go, go, go, you mixed up Siciliano…"

Quinn turned and stared at her.

"All you Calabrese do the mambo like a-crazy with the, hey mambo, don't wanna tarantella, hey mambo, no more mozzarella…"

James wails turned slowly into breathy sighs. Quinn looked like she was barely containing laughter.

Rachel ignored her. "Hey mambo, mambo Italiano, try an enchilada with a fish baccala…hey goomba, I love how you dance the rumba, but take some advice paisano, learn a-how to mambo…"

"Oh my God." Quinn muttered, delighted.

Rachel trailed off somewhere around "big bambino." James looked up at her, wide-eyed. It was like he was staring through her. Rachel smiled, pleased.

"_That's_ the song you choose?" Quinn questioned, brow raised. "The one from…Papa John's, or Dominoes or whate-"

"Dean Martin. We don't speak of that commercial." Rachel said shortly. "And it was the first thing that popped into my head."

Quinn hummed, amused. She glanced back at James. "And you say he doesn't like you."

James's gaze hadn't shifted. He stared at Rachel's face.

"You just made his whole world better, baby." Quinn remarked. "Mine too, actually, just because of those lyrics."

"I didn't make them up." Rachel defended absently, gazing down at James. She smiled softly when he blinked and banged his hand against the table.

Quinn put her chin on Rachel's shoulder. "You believe me now, right?"

"I always believed you."

"You wanted to, but you didn't." Quinn shook her head. "He likes us both. He's probably sick of us too. I know _I'm_ sick of you."

Rachel hummed vaguely. Quinn smiled to herself.

"I'll go back to work next week. I don't think we'll need to hire anybody."

Rachel nodded again. Quinn squeezed her into a hug and then dragged her away so that Emily could take the pictures. They got several of James by himself, swaddled in blankets or lying against a white background with the polka dot baby bow tie pinned to his collar. Then Emily arranged the three of them for several more shots.

There was Rachel with James in her arms, Quinn squeezing them in a hug from behind. Kissing James's cheeks, kissing each other, draped over the table, standing up, laughing, pulling faces, Rachel chastising Quinn for grabbing her butt in one of the shots.

Rachel was exhausted by the time they got out to the car again. Taking family pictures was worse than walking the red carpet. She opened the backseat and settled James's carrier in. She glanced up, confused, when Quinn opened the other side and started crawling through.

"One more, baby." Quinn smiled, holding up her phone.

Rachel was never one to turn it down. She would be grinning for pictures on her death bed.

She shifted the carrier so that James was facing the phone and tipped over the side of it so that she could blow on his belly. Quinn smiled brightly-mouth wide open-and held the phone at arm's distance so that she could get all three of them.

She took the picture and nodded, satisfied, and showed it to Rachel.

Rachel, eyes closed, smiling and blowing a raspberry on James's tummy. Quinn pressed against her shoulder, nearly falling out the door, mouth wide open in Rachel's direction. James stared solidly at the camera, chubby cheeks puffed out, bow tie crooked.

"We look like morons." Rachel laughed. "Take another one."

Quinn shook her head and held the phone away. "No, I like this one."

"Bear, please take another one. My eyes are closed."

"You're a moron, baby. I love this one and I'm not listening to you." Quinn smiled and kissed her cheek and clumsily climbed out of the backseat. Her heel broke as soon as she hit the asphalt, and she staggered around a bit, mumbling to herself.

Rachel sighed and chuckled and straightened James's bowtie.

Quinn had made the picture her wallpaper by the time they pulled out of the parking lot.


	30. Chapter 30

AN: This covers several "firsts," and speeds up a little bit. I think this story will have forty chapters total.

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 30: Overjoyed**

"John's leaving the show next week, so the producers have brought in a new guy to play Barnaby. He's been rehearsing with us, getting to know the cast. He's actually very talented, though he does tend to tucker out a bit quicker than John. I'm sure that'll change as he gets used to the pace of Broadway."

Rachel pushed the stroller past the snow leopard exhibit, babbling away.

"We're also changing one of the dance numbers around, so mama's been _very_ exhausted, hasn't she? I know you've noticed, James. I'm glad you decided to take me to the zoo today. I would've just slept the day away had you not suggested it."

It was hot, and Rachel was tired, and she couldn't stop the words shuttling out of her mouth if she tried.

"Maybe we can find mommy." Rachel mused, peering over the shade of the stroller. "I bet she's swimming with the polar bears. Mommy's crazy, isn't she?"

James choked an abrupt laugh.

Yes. Yes she is.

Rachel kept winding the stroller through the zoo. She smiled when James's short laughter drifted up to her at random intervals. It was like he was laughing at nothing-gurgling and high pitched. He couldn't seem to keep it going for more than a fraction of a second.

Rachel stopped outside the sea lion enclosure and angled the stroller so that James could see the animals. Sure, he was only four months old, but maybe he'd recognize them.

He was Quinn's child.

"Did you know that James is the name of Barbra Streisand's husband?" Rachel babbled, leaning over to check that James wasn't too warm or being blinded by the sun. He kicked his legs up and swung a fist through the air.

"I know!" Rachel enthused. "I can't wait to show you all of her movies. I know you've seen _Funny Girl_, but we'll need a repeat viewing to make sure it sticks. Wouldn't it be fabulous if you married somebody just like Barbra? We could-"

Rachel cut herself off, distracted by that thought. She mulled it over until it became weird because of age gaps, and incestuous because of course _she_ was the next Barbra.

"Or you can marry whomever you like." Rachel amended. She pushed away from the sea lions because James just seemed to be staring absently through them. "A nice girl or boy."

James cooed quietly. Rachel nodded.

"I know, baby boy. Mama shouldn't have worn heels, right? You know mommy called me a moron this morning?" Rachel scoffed to herself. "She was rubbing my feet and she called me a moron for walking around in heels."

A little stuffed Pooh Bear went tumbling out of the side of the stroller and James gurgled absently. Rachel paused to pick up his toy and dust it off.

"We don't throw things, Jimbo." She danced the bear over James's tummy and he smiled and swatted at it.

After visiting the polar bear enclosure and sitting on hers and Quinn's bench-a zoo tradition-Rachel pointed the stroller towards the veterinary fieldhouse.

"James, I really miss coffee." She sighed wistfully. She wound the stroller around a group of people blocking the path. "I've been drinking tea and decaf, but it's just not the same, you know? You probably don't know, actually. You're not very fond of milk, are you?"

James lolled his head to look around.

Rachel nodded. "Yeah, that's right. You'll probably love chocolate milk though. It runs through mommy's blood. Then one day, when you get older, I'll take your chocolate milk away for a week and you'll know how incredibly difficult it is for me to live without coffee. Until then, nobody understands, James."

Rachel rambled right up to one of the fieldhouse doors. She pushed right past the "Authorized Personnel Only," continued into the lounge, and smiled at the technicians she recognized.

"Someone has visitors!" One of them called.

Rachel was bent over the stroller checking on James when arms wrapped around her from behind. She laughed and staggered and held Quinn's hands over her stomach.

"My babies!" Quinn enthused, nuzzling Rachel's neck.

Rachel spun in her arms and kissed the corner of her mouth. Quinn was in a pressed white blouse and black slacks with her hair pinned neatly back, always delighted when Rachel visited her at work. She leaned over the stroller and kissed James's cheeks.

"Where's your white coat, babe?" Rachel wondered, watching her wife tickle James's tummy. "How has your day been?"

"His eyes are turning hazel." Quinn mused, distracted.

Rachel smiled and tapped her fingers lightly along Quinn's back. "What have you been doing today, bear? Where's your coat?"

Quinn glanced down at her blouse. "I spilled chocolate milk all down the front."

Rachel laughed. "Oh, baby."

"But we were working on a red panda this morning." Quinn sat back from James and met Rachel's eyes excitedly. "He had gastric torsion, which is like- it's like bloat, and the stomach fills up with gas and twists and becomes excessively stretched, but he lasted through the surgery so I think he'll be alright."

Rachel grimaced at the description.

Quinn suddenly lit up even further. She gripped Rachel's arms and smiled widely. "Guess what we're getting from the Pittsburgh Zoo."

Rachel smiled wryly. "An aardvark."

Quinn shook her head.

"A…rhinoceros." Rachel knew it would be a bear of some kind-she could see it in Quinn's eyes. But she'd always indulge Quinn's games.

"No."

"A dolphin."

Quinn laughed. "We have no water, Rachel."

Rachel shrugged and tipped her head to the side. "An ostrich."

"No." Quinn bit her lip, searching Rachel's face.

"A platypus."

"No."

Rachel chuckled. "What kind of bear are you getting, baby?"

"Yes!" Quinn rocked forward excitedly. She squeezed Rachel's hands. "A black bear named Sonny."

"Exciting!" Rachel grinned.

James's gurgly laughter came drifting out of the stroller, stealing Quinn's attention away. She got up abruptly to fetch something from a table on the other side of the room. She held it up, and Rachel saw that it was a balloon animal-a blue dog. Or tiger, or bear, or anything with four legs and something shaped vaguely like a head.

"I got it on my break earlier." Quinn explained, kneeling in front of the stroller. Her voice rose in pitch when she addressed James. "Have you and mama had a nice day, Jimbo?"

Rachel hummed. "We've had a lovely day. He told me that mama should be allowed to drink coffee. And that mommy shouldn't call mama a fool for wearing heels that make her legs look unbelievable."

"Mama _is_ a fool." Quinn shook her head at James.

She bounced the balloon animal along his tummy and then recoiled when he shrieked with sudden laughter. She rubbed at her ears and looked at Rachel-wide eyed and delighted. Rachel was deafened.

"That's it, baby!" Quinn encouraged, laughing along with James.

His shriek turned into a gurgly belly laugh, and it was loud and joyful and the most contagious thing Rachel had ever heard. She pulled out her phone automatically and started recording because he'd never managed to keep up a laugh for more than a few seconds before.

Rachel would make it her ringtone.

Quinn's face was turning abnormally red as she laughed, and Rachel made sure to get it in the shot. She sank onto the floor with Quinn, who danced the balloon dog over the edges of the stroller.

James thought it was the greatest thing in the world.

Several technicians and a veterinarian stood in the doorway and watched them. Quinn snorted and tipped sideways into Rachel, and James shrieked even louder as they toppled together to the floor.

~ooooooooooooo~

By nine months, James had perfected his baby babble and was working on developing his palette. His absolute favorite food was mushy bananas and he'd learned to respond to "No" when he scattered Cheerios on the floor-or _threw_ them from up in his high chair. But that didn't stop him doing it.

He seemed to enjoy watching the dogs scrabble around to eat them all up.

Rachel sat at the kitchen table with a small jar of mushed, mixed fruits, preparing to introduce them to James. He refused to open his mouth, choosing instead to puff out his cheeks and swat wildly at the spoon. Rachel already had a streak of mushy peas staining the front of her sweater.

She sighed, plastered on an enthusiastic smile, and held up the spoon. "Look, Jay! Mama will eat it."

Rachel impulsively put the spoon in her own mouth. James went wide-eyed, like what she'd done was scandalous. It wasn't the taste so much as the texture that made Rachel want to vomit. She picked up an extra bib from the table and covered her mouth and spat it all back out.

"Rachel, stop eating the baby food." Quinn chided, amused. She sat at the breakfast bar looking over patient reports.

Rachel coughed. It was actually making her eyes water.

"I'm sure he can't wait to try it now." Quinn drawled. She threw a crumpled up ball of paper at the side of Rachel's head. "Do you need water, baby? A mint? A bucket?"

Rachel wiped the bib repeatedly over her mouth. Her gums felt like they were coated in slime. Cornelius nosed at her knee and she shook her head.

"You do not want that, Seal." She said hoarsely.

James laughed. His head bobbled around, focused on Rachel's face.

"Baby." Quinn prodded.

Rachel finally turned to look at her-red faced, eyes shining.

Quinn smiled softly. "You look like you're crying."

"I _am_." Rachel choked. She batted her hands over her cheeks until her face felt a bit cooler.

"Baby food is not for grown-ups."

"Shut your face, bear." Rachel caught her breath and focused back on James, who sat patiently in his high chair watching Rachel have a small breakdown.

"See James, tasty!" Rachel enthused, collecting another spoonful.

Quinn snorted loudly.

James had a single eyebrow lifted. He probably didn't know he was doing it, but he looked dubious of whatever Rachel was saying. He opened and closed his mouth and pointed at the spoon.

"Ga! Am ga!"

Rachel nodded sagely. "That's right, baby. Can you open your mouth for mama?"

James opened his mouth widely. He closed his lips sloppily around the spoon so that about half of the fruit ended up on his cheeks, and Rachel wiped around his chin with the bib. James chomped exaggeratedly. He furrowed his brows and scrunched up his face, but seemed to find nothing wrong with the new food.

Rachel went for another spoonful when James swallowed and opened his mouth again.

"Am! Mama!"

There was a small crash from the breakfast bar-the stapler falling to the floor-and Rachel froze with the Thomas the Tank Engine spoon in the jar of baby food.

"Ama!" James pounded his palms against the tray.

Rachel looked wildly around and found that Quinn was now at her side. "Did he-was that-he said mama, right?"

"Or ama." Quinn whispered, studying James carefully.

Rachel reached over and brushed the fluff of blonde hair off his forehead. "Can you say it again, Jay? Mama. Ma-_ma_."

James laughed, pleased that he'd garnered both of his mothers' attention. "Aga."

"Mama. Mommy." Quinn enunciated.

James watched her silently, wide eyed and smiling.

"Say mama." Quinn laughed. "Please Jimbo? Mama ate baby food for you."

Rachel opened her mouth to respond at the same time as James.

"Mama!" he declared, bouncing a little in his seat. "Maaaaaaga."

Rachel had never been so proud.

"He said it!" she exclaimed. She looked quickly around for her phone, but Quinn was twelve steps ahead, seizing the video camera from the counter.

James pressed his palms to his cheeks and sighed, suddenly bored.

"One more time, baby boy." Rachel entreated. She sat forward and held James's small, sock-clad feet. "Ma-ma. Just like that."

"Urrgh." James stuck his arms out to the side and bounced in his seat. "Mama. Ama."

Rachel squealed quietly.

"He's trying to take off." Quinn observed, watching James wave his arms.

He stopped and sighed again, looking around like he was bored. He puffed his cheeks out and tipped his head back and watched Rachel and Quinn warily. Quinn smiled and wiped the bib over his mouth, and he stayed perfectly still.

Rachel was so excited that she completely forgot all about the slime she'd ingested five minutes ago. Her baby boy's first word. He was an absolute genius.

~ooooooooooooo~

"He's so fast." Quinn panted, crawling past the coffee table on her hands and knees. She glanced behind her and barked like a dog, and Rachel smiled from where she was sprawled out on the couch.

"He's like a little…cheetah." Quinn breathed.

James trailed behind her, swaying unsteadily. He'd get little bursts of energy where he could shoot forward and nearly catch Quinn, but most of the time he just tipped over.

"Don't hurt your knees, baby." Rachel told her wife.

Quinn wiggled her butt as she scurried past again.

James copied her, gurgling and shaking his body until he lost his balance and rolled over onto his back. Barnaby and Quinn both bounded over to investigate. Barnaby snuffled at his kicking feet while Quinn blew on his tummy. She tickled his sides and helped him roll back over, and then crawled off behind the couch. James crawled after her.

Rachel shut her eyes against their noise. Cornelius was a warm weight on top of her, and she listened out for any signs of alarm.

It was mostly James laughing, Quinn barking, and various animals snuffling and knocking things over.

"_Ow_." Quinn whined after a particularly loud thump in the wall.

Rachel smiled absently. "Careful, bear."

"I think he's tuckered out." Quinn yelled after a moment.

"Then bring him back in here. It's naptime anyway." Rachel threw an arm over her eyes to block out the light.

Quinn didn't appear in the living room with James, and Rachel couldn't hear anything.

"Rachel." Quinn called right as Rachel was dropping off.

Rachel sighed.

"Raaachel."

"Bear, I'd help you, but I somehow got stuck to the couch." Rachel answered.

Quinn's voice grew more urgent. "Baby, come here. You'll want to see this."

Rachel contemplated just ignoring her again. Knowing Quinn, she'd probably found a caterpillar crawling through the hallway. Rachel heaved a sigh and rolled off the couch anyway. She landed on her hands and knees and stood up slowly to make her way to the hall.

Quinn kneeled-disheveled, with raw knees and palms-holding James's hands while he stood in front of her.

Rachel instinctively slowed, like James was a wild animal she was trying not to disturb.

"I think he's ready to take a step." Quinn whispered, delighted.

James bounced on his knees, swinging from her hands. He laughed loudly and smiled at Rachel, soft blonde hair falling into his eyes. Rachel crouched at the end of the hallway.

Quinn kissed the top of James's head. "Can you walk to mama, Jay?"

James hummed enthusiastically.

Rachel glanced around to make sure no dogs would come barreling through to knock James over-no cats would be pouncing from up above. Cornelius was stalking around the living room, and Rachel narrowed her eyes and moved further into the hallway.

She held her arms open and beckoned. "Can you walk over here, baby?"

Quinn sat up on her knees and let go of James's hands. He swayed precariously and reached his arms in Rachel's direction.

"Maaa!"

Quinn hovered behind him, ready to catch him if he toppled sideways onto the thin rug over the hardwood.

"Come on over here, baby." Rachel encouraged. "Come see mama."

Quinn blindly pulled her phone out of her pocket, focused completely on James. He lifted his leg really high and took a step, and then took a few rapid steps to prevent himself from falling forward. He stopped about halfway to Rachel and laughed in her direction.

"Come on, James. I'll give you banana." Rachel offered. "You know banana, right? Nana?"

Quinn snorted. "You don't have to bribe him, Rachel."

"Naaa." James declared, before laughing his little belly laugh. He sighed and took the last few steps to Rachel. He lost his balance and tripped sideways, and Rachel caught him and wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tightly.

She kissed his neck until he squealed, and then set him back down. He caught sight of Charizard behind Quinn and went crawling off in that direction. Quinn intercepted him and tickled his sides.

"King James can walk!" she declared, letting him swat at her hands.

He rolled himself back over and crawled after Charizard when Quinn let him go. Rachel sat on the floor of the hallway next to her wife and watched him.

Quinn stopped recording and met Rachel's gaze. Rachel just smiled, totally content.

"My knees hurt." Quinn complained after a moment.

"You're getting old."

"I'm younger than you are."

Rachel reached over and ruffled Quinn's hair, and Quinn ducked away. "But my knees are timeless."

Quinn chuckled. "You're so full of it, little bear."

James squealed with laughter when Barnaby knocked him over and snuffled at his stomach.

Quinn sprawled backwards across the floor. Her hair splayed out and her shirt rode up, and Rachel crawled over and lay down next to her. Quinn wrapped her up and kissed all over her face.

"Old like elephants, baby." Rachel rubbed Quinn's stomach.

Quinn hummed.

"Until we eat nothing but chocolate pudding, right?"

~ooooooooooooo~

James's first birthday party landed on the Saturday before Easter. Quinn set out Marshmallow Peeps and chocolate eggs and giant solid chocolate rabbits and called them appetizers. Party food. Rachel managed to scrape together some sandwiches and chips and finger foods at the last minute.

All of their friends came-Santana and Brittany, Blaine and Kurt with Simba, Puck, Sam (who flew in from San Diego), Tom and his son, Tina, and a few of Rachel's co-stars. Quinn gave all of them chocolate rabbits.

James started crying about half an hour into the party, and it only escalated until he was red-faced and screaming.

"Maybe he doesn't like being surrounded by people." Rachel suggested to Santana. They watched Sam swing James around like an airplane, which seemed to quiet him for a moment.

Santana smirked. "Just like Sunny Delight, then."

Rachel didn't actually know where Quinn had gone.

James shrieked into Sam's shoulder.

"Whoo! That's supersonic, Jon Bon!" Puck applauded, cotton balls jammed into his ears.

Sam rubbed James's back and danced in a little circle. "Do you like bouncing? Bouncy-bouncy? How about puppy dogs?"

James palmed Sam's cheek while he cried-fluffy blonde hair sticking to his face.

"Kitty cat?" Sam kept trying. "How about bears? Rawr!"

James silenced himself abruptly. He leaned back from Sam's chest and studied his face, eyes wide and reddened. Sam smiled and wiped some of the sticky tears from his face.

"That's what bears say, right?" Sam encouraged, bouncing James slightly. "Rawr!"

"Awr." James echoed seriously.

Santana scoffed and elbowed Rachel. "You know that's your wife in a tiny, tiny package, right?"

Rachel smiled.

"Awr!" James squealed.

Sam looked delighted with what he'd accomplished.

Rachel turned and studied Santana, who'd been watching protectively over Brittany all morning. She smirked and sipped from her juice.

"So when were you planning on telling us?" Rachel wondered innocently.

Santana narrowed her eyes.

Rachel smiled. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Look, Berry, if you've finally snapped and lost all your marbles-"

"I'm just happy for you." Rachel leaned back against the wall and side-eyed Santana. "We need more little babies running around."

Santana looked like she was wavering between punching Rachel's face in and breaking down into tears. She coughed and nodded shortly, and Rachel smiled widely. Containing herself was so hard.

"Give me a hug." Rachel requested, opening up her arms.

Santana rolled her eyes.

"Brittany's pregnant. You have to give me a hug!" Rachel demanded again.

"God, Berry, chill."

Rachel opened her mouth again, but Santana sighed heavily and shook her head and shuffled over so that Rachel could give her a hug. Rachel squeezed tightly and rocked from side to side, pleased that it made Santana so uncomfortable. Santana was lucky she wasn't shrieking and dancing around the living room.

"Where's your damn wife?" Santana muttered into her hair. "She needs to put you back in your cage."

Rachel pulled back. She probably needed to find Quinn.

"If you require any assistance at all, let us know." She told Santana.

Sure, her baby was nearly being thrown through the ceiling by Sam and she didn't actually know where her wife was, but she could be helpful at times. Santana nodded-trying not to smile-and pushed her away, and Rachel veered off towards the bedrooms.

She passed the empty nursery and quietly entered the master bedroom. Quinn was lying on the bed next to Cloud-disheveled and getting white hair everywhere. Her eyes were shiny and her cheeks were red, and Rachel silently crossed the room and lay down opposite her.

She brushed a hand along Quinn's arm and softly tapped a warm cheek.

"Sorry. I'm coming out in a minute." Quinn murmured, holding Rachel's hand near her head.

Rachel frowned. "Tell me what's wrong, baby."

Quinn rubbed at her eyes. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does." Rachel nodded resolutely. "What's wrong? Did somebody say something?"

Quinn shook her head.

"So there's nobody I need to punch? Are you sick? Do you need a bucket?"

Quinn reached over and pressed her palm over Rachel's mouth. Rachel smiled.

"You know Potter the otter?" Quinn said quietly. "The one I did radiotransmitter placement surgery on a week ago?"

Rachel hummed and kissed Quinn's palm.

"He…died." Quinn said in a small voice. "They called-called me this morning. The incision was infected, but that wasn't-apparently that didn't cause it. He had a heart problem. I don't-it's not-it wasn't even a necessary surgery. I've never killed anything before."

Rachel shifted closer to Quinn. She tapped her wife's jaw so she'd stay focused.

"You didn't kill anything, bear."

Quinn blew out her cheeks.

Rachel studied her. "If I jump off a cliff after drinking a cup of coffee, does that mean the coffee is what kills me?"

"Have you…been drinking coffee?" Quinn asked thickly, confused.

"No, baby." Rachel smiled slightly. "You were putting a transmitter in his…head, or leg, or whatever. You-"

"It was abdominal surgery." Quinn said quietly.

"In his abdomen." Rachel amended.

Quinn rolled until her face was pressed against Rachel's shoulder. "I think I did well."

"I'm assuming inserting a transmitter into his abdomen has nothing to do with his heart." Rachel tugged on Quinn's hair. "Unless-I don't know-is that where the heart is? Do they have lungs?"

Quinn chuckled. Her nose pressed against Rachel's arm. "Yes. Otters breathe air, Rachel."

"And they have stomachs too, right?" Rachel feigned confusion. "And eyes? How many legs do otters have? Eight?"

Quinn snorted into Rachel's sleeve. She propped herself up on her elbows and attacked Rachel's neck with kisses. Rachel laughed loudly and tried to shove her away, but that only encouraged Quinn to climb on top of her. Quinn laid still, dead weight on Rachel's body.

"They have six legs, actually." Quinn said sagely. "Otters are insects."

Rachel hummed. Then she laughed, just because it would rock Quinn up and down.

Quinn rested her chin on Rachel's chest and sighed. "We should get back to the party."

"I have something to tell you first." Rachel whispered. She wiped the last remnants of tears from Quinn's face and then rested both hands on Quinn's head.

Quinn wrinkled up her nose.

Rachel smiled fondly. "I want another one." She said before she could overthink it. Before she could strategize and come up with any tact at all. "Another little baby. And I'd-I think I'd like to carry it."

Quinn stared, rising and falling slightly with each breath Rachel took. She picked her head up slightly and searched Rachel's face.

"Don't cry, bear." Rachel chuckled softly.

Quinn shook her head. She smiled widely and pawed at her own eyes. She scooted forward and kissed Rachel and laughed against her lips.

"Raaachel." She whined after a moment. She held Rachel's cheeks and squeezed them together. "Bring me our baby."

"We can't keep him away from the party for too long. Everybody will follow him in here."

Quinn nodded. She rolled away so that Rachel could stand up, and then swatted at Rachel's butt as she walked away. Rachel paused halfway across the room, scurried back to give Quinn another kiss, and then hurried into the hallway.

She spotted James with Sam on the couch. Sam was eating a banana and breaking little bits off for the baby. James crushed them in his chubby fists and wiped them down Sam's shirt.

"Rachel?"

Rachel paused at the quiet voice coming from behind her. She spun around and grinned brightly at Simba. "Riff Raff!"

Simba smiled. He looked up at her behind black-framed glasses, curly hair falling into his eyes.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Rachel wondered, bending over to straighten his bow tie. "Quinn will come out soon to play with you."

Simba nodded shyly. He produced a sheet of construction paper from behind his back and held it out to Rachel. "I made, um, a picture. For James. I used my crayons. It's you and Jay and Qui-Auntie Quinn."

Rachel gasped quietly. She handled the paper reverently and studied it with a smile.

There was a baby-a ball with yellow crayon hair and no limbs-sitting on the back of a red dog, probably Barnaby. The next person-with brown hair, brown eyes, and a microphone in hand-was only slighter longer than the baby. Rachel tried not to take too much offense.

The Quinn drawing was holding the Rachel's hand. She was as tall as the paper, with yellow crayon hair.

Rachel leaned forward to give Simba a hug. "I love it. Thank you, honey."

"You're welcome." Simba murmured.

"Quinn will love it too. I'm going to drag her out now."

"My d-daddy said to tell you to hurry up because they-they want cake." Simba dug his hands into his pockets and glanced over to where Blaine and Kurt were sitting in the living room. Kurt waved innocently at Rachel.

Rachel ruffled Simba's hair. She made her way over to Sam and retrieved her baby, and instructed Sam to change his shirt before he got banana all over their apartment.

Quinn was sitting cross-legged on the bed when Rachel returned. James giggled and waved his chubby arms in Quinn's direction, and Rachel put him on the bed and watched him crawl over to mommy. Quinn scooped him up and ran her hands through his fluffy hair.

James shook his head around, tipping against Quinn's chest, and then palmed both of Quinn's cheeks.

Rachel sat on the bed and handed the drawing to her wife. "From Simba."

Quinn examined it and pointed at the drawing of Rachel-only slightly bigger than the baby. "I see he did it to scale."

"I'll take away your cake, bear."

Quinn grinned. She bounced slightly on the bed and James laughed. He stuck his fingers in his mouth and played with the clasp on his stripy overalls.

"You really want another of these…monsters." Quinn questioned, eyes dancing over Rachel's face.

Rachel simply smiled and nodded.

Quinn dropped a kiss to James's head. "It'd be nice to grow up with a friend." She mused softly.

Rachel tipped her head. "Baby…"

"They'd be…built in best friends." Quinn continued, letting James play with her toes.

Rachel was melting.

Quinn smiled at her. "I need one who looks like you. She'll be loud and perfect and annoying and small-"

"Hey. Shut it, baby." Rachel scooted forward and prodded Quinn's thigh.

"And she'll sing _all the time_." Quinn complained, rolling her eyes. "And she'll just smother me with hugs, and I'll never be able to get away from her."

Rachel bit her cheek.

Quinn scrunched up her face, and James watched-wide eyed-and tried to copy her. "I'll be surrounded by them, James. And-God-the _kisses_. It'll be endless."

"Stop it, baby." Rachel pouted.

Quinn groaned exaggeratedly and tipped onto her side, taking James with her. He shrieked and rolled around on his back.

"God, the pouting." Quinn complained. "Ugh. I hate-"

Rachel pounced on her-sick of her antics-careful not to land on James. She ended up draped halfway across Quinn, hands tangled in Quinn's hair to hold her still. James and Quinn laughed loudly beneath her.

"You're smothering me!" Quinn whined breathlessly.

Rachel snorted. "It's time for you to be quiet, honey."

James batted at one of Rachel's forearms. "Mama!" He chuckled and grinned with his mouth wide open.

"Push mama on the floor." Quinn whispered loudly, smiling at Rachel. "Push her, Jimbo."

Rachel gasped. She jammed her fingers into Quinn's ribs. "_Quinn_. I'm going to be carrying your baby."

"One just like you." Quinn nodded. She lolled her head to the side and smiled fondly at Rachel.

"Really?" Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Because you were complaining two seconds ago."

"Just like you, Rachel." Quinn repeated.

"You won't be smothered?"

"I want a baby just like you."

Rachel pressed her lips together, satisfied with that. And charmed. She snuggled into Quinn, who wrapped an arm around her back and another around James.

"Ommy." James declared, puffing out his cheeks.

Quinn copied him. James palmed Quinn's cheeks so that she let all the air out, and then shrieked with laughter when she did the same to him. Quinn poked Rachel's cheeks until she puffed them up with air, and James promptly slapped his little hands against them to get them to deflate.

"Baby, I'd like cake." Quinn whispered after a few minutes.

Rachel sat up and smiled. She tapped Quinn's lips and brushed the blonde hair off her face. "You told our baby to push me off the bed."

"I don't remember that." Quinn shook her head, refusing to meet Rachel's gaze.

"That's convenient."

"Rachel." Quinn said sagely.

Rachel hummed.

"Let's have another baby."

Rachel smiled and scooted off the bed and held a hand out for her wife. "Let's start with cake."


	31. Chapter 31

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 31: We're Making Out Inside Crashed Cars**

Rachel tapped the small cardboard box along the counter. She checked the time on her phone, sighed in frustration, and then tapped harder. Cornelius sat at her feet, gazing up at her like the pregnancy test in her hand was some kind of toy- poised to rip it apart and swallow the bits.

Rachel hadn't even opened it yet. She was waiting for Quinn to get home so that she could hand over James- their daily "baby switch"-and get to her show.

Cornelius barked lowly and Rachel tapped his head with her foot.

"Shush, dog."

James clapped in his high chair. "Sush!"

Maybe Quinn was angry with her. She'd been annoyed that morning when she left because she caught Rachel drinking coffee-the first one Rachel had snuck in months. Really, she was being good. But Rachel had told her it was tea.

Or maybe Quinn was ignoring her because Rachel had burned the waffles at breakfast. Totally blackened one side and then doused the kitchen table in syrup.

But Rachel remembered Quinn eating some kind of appalling chili concoction in their first apartment with a forced smile on her face, and ruled that out.

Quinn just wasn't answering her texts. And really, Rachel knew that her wife wasn't the type to ignore anybody, even if she was angry. It was "passive and idiotic and a waste of everybody's time." And Quinn was a sweetheart; she'd turn clippy in her texts but she'd never block anybody out.

"Sush, mama." James remarked absently, tugging at his ears.

Rachel groaned and slid the pregnancy test box away. "Where's mommy, Jay?!"

Her voice was a little frantic. She'd never been this late to a show in her life. Rachel Berry was a punctual person.

"Mommy!" James scrunched up his face and shook his head around.

"Mommy, mommy, mommy…" Rachel muttered.

Cornelius barked again, and Rachel sighed and slid off her stool to get him something to eat from the kitchen. She was prying open the bag of Beggin' Strips with one hand and dialing Santana with the other when her phone signaled an incoming call.

"Rachel Berry!" she screeched in greeting, struggling with the Ziploc seal on the bag.

She kicked at Cornelius to shoo him out of the kitchen, and he dodged her foot and whined loudly.

"Hush, dog." Rachel scolded.

"Ms. Berry?"

Rachel dumped the bag of treats haphazardly onto the kitchen floor and ran a hand through her hair. "Yes, I'm here. I apologize. How may I help you?"

"My name is Amber Holcombe, from New York Presbyterian Hospital."

"She's been mauled by a bear" was the first thing that went through Rachel's mind.

"Your wife was brought in a little after five."

Rachel's chest seized. She watched Cornelius and Cloud feast on the pile of Beggin' Strips at her feet, and noticed that her hand was caught in the tangles of her hair. _God_, Quinn was late.

"She was in a car accident. It would be best if you got here as soon as possible."

James laughed loudly in the background when Jelly leapt lightly up onto his tray. Rachel's breath caught. Her heart-_everything_ inside-felt like it dropped to her feet, and her chest and hands were shaking immediately.

Now she was a vibrating, hollow, shocked and anxious shell with two dogs snuffling over her toes. She blinked at them.

"Ms. Berry?"

"I'm-I'm here." Rachel managed. Her heart beat wildly and she leaned against the counter. "She's-is she alright? She's fine, right? She's not-she's not-"

_Dying_ would never make it out of her mouth.

"_Shit_." Rachel pulled anxiously on her hair. Her eyes burned. "I-I messed up her waffles this morning. She was supposed to-she needed to be here thirty minutes ago!"

"Rachel?" the nurse called calmly. "I don't have any further information, I'm sorry. Will you be able to make it to the hospital?"

"I blackened her waffles this morning!" Rachel shrieked, spinning in a small circle. Her chest was shaking uncontrollably, and the _waffles_ were all she could see. And Quinn's delighted smile when Rachel had suggested them.

"I-she-"

Rachel cut herself off and started grabbing at everything within range-purse, baby bag, baby shoes, baby hat, baby.

"Yes, yes I can make it. Thank-thank you very much."

She hung up abruptly and draped both bags over one shoulder. She scooped James out of his chair and settled him on her hip, slipped on some shoes, and rushed out the door. James was crying before she even hailed a cab. Once the car stopped, Rachel realized that James couldn't ride in it without a _goddamn_ car seat.

She pulled her keys out, knocked a plastic bottle out of the baby bag so that it rolled into the road, and rushed around the building to the garage.

"It's okay, baby boy." She soothed breathlessly, voice cracking a bit. "We're going to see mommy. It's okay."

Despite how desperately Rachel felt she needed to be at the hospital, she refused to jump any curbs with James in the car. She wouldn't go careening around corners or hydroplaning like a madman. So she sat quietly at a stop sign while her heart was being twisted and torn out of her chest.

Quinn's plastic thermos from her animal rescue days was in the cup holder. A pair of her shoes was on the floor of the passenger seat, and a manual on New York state wildlife was shoved into the door compartment.

Rachel only saw her smiling over waffles. Freshly showered, eyes bright, tickling James's feet while she tried to catch strawberries in her mouth.

Rachel called one of her costars at a red light, and then Santana.

"Berry, aren't you supposed to be on stage in like-"

"I'm going to the hospital." Rachel nearly shouted. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel. Santana stayed silent while Rachel informed her of the situation.

"Get off the phone, Rachel. Drive. We'll be there soon." Was all Santana said, voice low and strained.

Rachel forced herself to take the time to park properly at the hospital. Quinn would scold her-and laugh, probably- if all she had was a few bruises and Rachel managed to get their car towed.

She hurried into the emergency room-stiltedly, because of her bags, her baby, and her nerves-and requested Quinn Fabray at the desk. They directed her up an elevator to the ICU, and she could barely breathe by the time she reached the nurse's station.

"I'm looking for Quinn Fabray." she said immediately, shifting James up her hip and trying to steady her chest. It was imploding. "I'm-I'm Rachel Berry, her wife. Is she-"

"Hey there, Rachel. Let me take your boy and we'll put him in the daycare, okay?"

Rachel recognized the voice from the phone. It was coming from a small, dark-haired nurse with a warm smile, and Rachel nodded in relief. She hugged James tightly and kissed his head twice.

"You'll see mommy soon, baby bear." She murmured against his ear. She thumbed the tear stains off his cheeks and he watched her with wide hazel eyes. "I promise. Be good. I love you, honey."

James sniffled and swatted at the nurse who took him out of Rachel's arms.

Rachel looked back at Nurse Holcombe. The woman's smile was reassuring.

"Ms. Berry, your wife is stable. She's in no danger, as far as the doctors can tell."

Rachel breathed shallowly. Tears seemed to come with relief. She tipped back against the wall and anxiously ran both hands through her hair.

Quinn would still be around. To hug her and kiss her and love on her, any time, any day, whatever mood. To raise their baby and roll around on the floor and eat all the peanut butter and blame it on a dog. Rachel pressed her hands against her temples and focused on breathing.

"She suffered a displaced fracture of the tibia, so she was in surgery when I called." Nurse Holcombe spoke slowly. "They inserted pins to hold the bone together, and she's in a cast now. She knocked her head as well, but there's no reason you can't wheel her out of here within twenty-four hours."

Rachel whimpered slightly. "She broke her leg?"

Nurse Holcombe nodded. "It's been set. She'll be in crutches for at least eight weeks."

Rachel gave a small nod. She could picture Quinn swinging happily around on them already. Turning them into games and using them to prod the dogs.

"Can I see her?" Rachel asked hopefully.

"Right this way." Nurse Holcombe smiled.

Rachel was led to a private room, wringing her hands the whole way, and tears finally trailed down her cheeks when she pushed open the door. There was no beeping, no wires, no awful hospital stench or blood or horrific injury.

There was Quinn-twisted up in her robe and blankets-lying on her back with her leg supported and her hair in her face, sleeping like a bear. Rachel pressed a hand over her mouth and rushed towards the bed.

"Oh, baby. _Quinn_…" she murmured. She touched all the skin she could find, checking it over, making sure Quinn was alright. She carefully brushed Quinn's hair back-remembering that the nurse said she'd knocked her head-and kissed her wife's cheeks.

Quinn's face was flushed, lips curved into a pout.

"You scared me, dummy." Rachel sniffled quietly, mostly relieved. She rested a hand on the smooth skin of Quinn's chest, just under the collar of the robe. Her heartbeat was as strong as ever.

"I love you, bear. I love you, I love you, I love you." Rachel repeated quietly, watery eyes fixed on Quinn's face.

She was slowly catching her breath, regaining her senses, stopping her shaking.

Quinn seemed to be knocked _out_.

Rachel rubbed her nose and straightened out Quinn's blanket. She untwisted Quinn's robe from where it had ridden up around her torso, and then sat next to the bed and held Quinn's hand. It was soft and warm and familiar.

Rachel wiped at the tears on her face and kissed each of Quinn's fingers.

~oooooooooooo~

The nurse came back with a box of Quinn's belongings-things that had been left in the back of the cab when it was hit-and Rachel went through them while Quinn slept.

There was Quinn's bag, which contained a white coat and a change of clothes, an empty lunchbox, water, and a file of documents. And then Quinn's purse and the clothes she'd been wearing. Rachel whined at the ripped up dark pants and broken sunglasses.

But there was a messy bouquet of roses at the bottom of the box, and Rachel smiled slightly at the sight. The tag read "I love your waffles, little bear." Quinn had signed it with a heart and an elephant.

Rachel was laying the flowers out on the table when Quinn shifted.

Glassy, hazel eyes had opened, and Quinn furrowed her brow and blinked repeatedly.

"Baby, hey." Rachel soothed, managing to keep her tone low. She dropped the flowers and eagerly scooted closer to the bed.

Quinn had pillow lines in her face, and Rachel pushed her hair back so that she could see.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" Rachel murmured. She kept her hand in Quinn's hair, discreetly stroking and feeling for a bump.

Quinn blinked, confused.

Rachel leaned closer and caught Quinn's hazy gaze. "You're alright. You're in the hospital, baby. You had an accident."

"You were crying." Quinn observed roughly. She frowned and tried to reach for Rachel's face.

Rachel intercepted her clumsy hand and squeezed it. "I'm okay now. You're okay, so I'm okay."

"I'm good." Quinn said absently, eyes drifting away.

Rachel smiled softly. Quinn was obviously either half asleep or drugged. Probably both. Rachel kept her gaze on her wife's face. She had every shade of her eyes, every curve of her lips memorized-for eight years now.

Quinn swallowed and held Rachel's hand by her lips, against the pillow. "My leg hurts."

"It's broken, baby." Rachel said thickly. "The doctors pinned it and put it in a cast."

Quinn was silent. Her gaze flickered back to Rachel and focused on her wife's lips.

"Does your head hurt?" Rachel wondered.

Quinn nodded slightly.

"Does anywhere else hurt?"

Quinn nodded again, and then winced against the pillow. Rachel stroked a hand up and down her forearm.

"Do you remember what happened?" she asked quietly. She felt helpless. Quinn's leg had been caught between the door and the seat when the car plowed into the side of the taxi. Rachel's skin tingled unpleasantly just thinking about it.

Quinn's lips quirked. "I got-did you get your flowers?"

Rachel tipped her head. "I did."

Sort of. The worst way possible to receive flowers.

"They're beautiful, baby."

"You felt…bad about the waffles this morning." Quinn mumbled thickly. She pulled on Rachel's arm until Rachel was standing up and leaning over the bed, giving her a careful hug. Quinn wouldn't let her pull away, and Rachel pressed her lips to soft golden hair and waited.

The door cracked open quietly, and Santana slithered through the gap, eyes wide, a little sweaty. Brittany followed, and then Puck and Kurt, and Rachel moved to sit protectively on the edge of Quinn's bed.

"You guys aren't allowed in here." Rachel chided quietly.

Santana ignored her. "The nurse said she was fine. Is she fine? Is she awake? Tripping? Does she-"

"She'll be alright." Rachel cut her off. She looked fondly down at her wife. "I think she's just sleepy."

"And concussed." Puck added.

Kurt gasped softly. "What if she's amnesic?" He surged toward the bed as if to check for himself.

Santana followed. "Hey, Sunny Delight." She whispered, peering over Kurt's shoulder. "Who am I?"

Quinn sighed heavily and blinked at them. She hugged Rachel's arm closer and shut her eyes. "Rachel." She mumbled.

"She's tired. And drugged." Rachel explained, brushing Quinn's hair back again.

Santana smiled, amused, and Kurt nodded. They just watched Quinn for a moment, going a bit glassy-eyed with Puck and Brittany.

"Can you guys take James tonight?" Rachel asked Santana quietly.

All she'd need was a sheet and she could turn the chair into her bed. She had no plans to leave Quinn's room.

Santana didn't question it, just nodded.

"It'll be like practice." Brittany chirped, patting her own belly.

"They'll turn your baby into their guinea pig." Kurt warned.

Quinn groaned lightly and rolled so that half her face was pressed against the pillow. She opened her eyes and fixed her blurry vision on Santana. "Tell Ra-tell James mommy loves him."

Santana nodded.

"Bring me a guinea pig, Rachel." Quinn whispered, clutching Rachel's arm tighter.

"You're so high." Puck laughed.

Rachel rubbed Quinn's side and nodded indulgently. "I will, baby."

"Where?" Quinn muttered.

Rachel frowned. "Where what?"

"Where will-where will you put it?"

"I'll build it a home." Rachel answered easily. "It can live with Benjamin."

Quinn scoffed into her pillow. "Baby, you can't-you can't put a grin-guinea pig with a cat. It'll swa-swallow it."

Evidently Quinn was under the impression that Benjamin Bunny was a cat. Rachel rolled with it.

"I know, bear."

"You know, some of us have jobs to get to and babies to take care of, so we're gonna go." Santana declared, gesturing at the door. Rachel nodded.

Santana stepped forward and quickly kissed Quinn's head. "I'm glad you're alright, Sunny." She said for the room to hear, and then winked at Rachel. "I'll make sure you remember that Rachel owes you a guinea pig now."

Rachel shrugged. No problem. She'd get a whole fleet of guinea pigs for her crippled, sleepy wife.

"Did you get my…I got you flowers." Quinn murmured after everybody had kissed her head and left.

"How about you try to sleep, honey?" Rachel suggested. "You'll be really sore tomorrow."

Quinn sighed heavily like she was being put out. She grasped Rachel's arm with both hands and pulled it closer-and really, Rachel's arm didn't _bend_ that way-but Rachel twisted her body with it and settled by the bed.

When she was finally able to relax, Rachel realized that she had on two different shoes and that the empty bag of Beggin' Strips was sitting next to her purse.

~oooooooooo~

"So, are you pregnant?" Quinn asked eagerly.

Rachel rolled the wheelchair up to the front door and shrugged. She ran her fingers through Quinn's hair while she searched for her keys.

"You know I wouldn't take the test without you, babe."

Rachel had already explained it twice. Quinn was very much awake, but thoroughly medicated. She kept dropping her hands down to stop her wheels so that Rachel would run into the back of the wheelchair.

Rachel swung the door open and gestured at the stairs that led up to their apartment. "Can you handle crutches, bear? I'll help you."

"I'm-I have bacon in my teeth." Quinn said distractedly.

They'd had breakfast six hours ago. Rachel shook her head and wrapped an arm around her wife's shoulders, helping her to stand. Quinn listed heavily to the left, and Rachel quickly handed her the crutches. Quinn grasped the soft, spongy part and looked at them like they were foreign objects.

"Under your arms, baby." Rachel reminded gently.

Getting a confused, high, excitable, crippled Quinn up the stairs was quite a task. Rachel was panting halfway up like Quinn had been riding on her back-Rachel the burro. Her wife would just have to accept that she would be trapped in the apartment for the next eight weeks.

"I forgot my toothbrush." Quinn remarked, and then turned like she was planning on going all the way back down.

Rachel grasped her shoulders and pointed her in the right direction. "I'll get it. Go straight."

Quinn chuckled and stared at Rachel.

Rachel pressed fruitlessly at her back, trying to get her to move. "Let's go, baby. Hurry up."

"I love you, Rachel." Quinn drawled, ducking her head for a kiss.

Rachel rolled her eyes and allowed one, but pulled away when Quinn nibbled at her lip and clumsily attempted to push her against the wall. They'd both go plummeting to their death. Rachel had never spent so much time on a goddamn staircase.

Quinn dropped her crutches and bent over like she was planning on sitting down.

Rachel seized her arms. "No, no, no, baby. Up. Come on. We're almost there."

Quinn puffed out her cheeks and stood back up. She hopped up the last few steps with her crutches while Rachel hovered behind-ready to catch her-because _that_ would go well.

Rachel opened the door at the top of the stairs and shoved the dogs back so that Quinn could get in. Quinn smiled, delighted, and greeted each one separately while she balanced precariously against a table.

"I miss James." She lamented when Rachel pulled her towards the bedroom.

Rachel hummed, watching Quinn's crutches to make sure they didn't catch on anything. "San and Britt are bringing him back tonight."

Quinn used a crutch to loudly bang open the bedroom door. "We have the bre-best baby, Rachel." She said seriously. "I love him so much."

"Me too." Rachel smiled, settling Quinn on the bed.

She was looking for some pajamas when she heard a loud thump behind her. She turned to find that Quinn had slipped off the bed onto the floor. It would probably be incredibly painful if Quinn could _feel_ anything.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Quinn exclaimed, pointing up at Rachel, dazed. "Are you alright?"

Rachel stared down at her and smothered her laughter. "I'm fine, honey. You need to sit still. Moving around will only make your leg hurt worse."

"I'm…a doctor, Rachel." Quinn rolled her eyes as Rachel helped her back onto the bed. "A DMV. I know-"

"DVM." Rachel inserted quickly, amused. "But please, continue doctor."

"I know…that…my leg…is not really broken." Quinn informed, lying back and staring at the ceiling.

Rachel hummed and moved to tug off Quinn's shirt. "Is that so?"

Quinn nodded. "I fleel-feel _fine_. I probably just stubbed it."

"You stubbed your leg." Rachel echoed. She kissed the light bruising along Quinn's right side.

Quinn palmed her own boobs when Rachel removed her bra. She held them and looked down at them like she was comparing sizes, brow furrowed, and Rachel was forever regretful that she wasn't filming this. She found a t-shirt and pulled her wife's hands away from her boobs-after tapping them fondly herself- and then threaded Quinn's arms through the holes. She helped Quinn's legs onto the bed and nudged her side.

"Roll over to your side, baby."

Quinn blinked up at her and laughed. "_Rachel_. I can't-I can't just roll across the world like a tumbleweed!"

Rachel snorted and dropped onto the bed, head in her hands. She shook with silent laughter and Quinn patted her back. Rachel twisted and leaned forward to kiss her. She laughed into Quinn's mouth and Quinn sucked on her lip and wrapped her arms around Rachel's neck.

Rachel pushed Quinn's cheeks together and kissed them, and then her forehead and her nose. She pulled back to help Quinn roll over.

"There's bacon in my teeth." Quinn informed again.

"Really?" Rachel collapsed on her side of the bed and rolled to face Quinn. "After six hours?"

"Get it for me." Quinn whined, opening her mouth widely and leaning towards Rachel.

Rachel scrunched up her face and pushed on Quinn's cheek. "I'm not picking food out of your teeth, bear."

"I need my-my toothbrush." Quinn mumbled, shifting to climb out of bed.

Rachel wrapped an arm around her waist and held her in place. She'd be an anchor until Quinn fell asleep or turned into a rational human again.

"Sleep, Quinn." She instructed.

Quinn rolled back over, shifting onto her elbows to bring her clunky cast with her. Rachel would probably be assaulted by it in the night. She tightened her hold on her wife.

"Are we having a baby?" Quinn murmured, gazing at Rachel.

Rachel smiled softly. "We'll find out when you're not high."

Quinn seemed content with that. Or too far gone to protest it. She snuggled closer to Rachel and finally closed her eyes.

"I have bacon in my teeth, Rachel." She whispered.

~ooooooooooo~

"Are you absolutely sure you're sober? Totally clear-headed?"

Quinn nodded indulgently, perched at the breakfast bar with a bowl of cereal. Her leg was propped up on the next stool.

Rachel searched her face. Her eyes were clear and amused, she was relatively still-as still as Quinn could be-and she'd poured the milk on her Cheerios without spilling it all over the counter.

"What do you need, baby?" Quinn smiled. She swiveled the chair slightly so that she could reach for Rachel's hand.

"Say something competent."

Quinn hummed disappointedly, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Rachel. I can't do that."

Rachel sighed. "That's _right_." She declared, playing along. "I forgot you're an incompetent moron."

Quinn laughed into her Cheerios.

Rachel plowed on. "I mean, really, who puts ice cream in their cereal?" she shuffled up behind the chair and rested her head on Quinn's shoulder. She rubbed Quinn's back through the slats. "A fool, baby. That's what fools do."

"Hey." Quinn protested with her mouth full.

Rachel raised an eyebrow.

Quinn chomped loudly. "I chay around wile amals fo a libin."

"Of course, of course." Rachel hummed.

Quinn swallowed and turned to her again. She stared at Rachel for a moment, and then her smile softened and she nodded towards the bathroom.

"Take the test, baby. I'll be right here."

"You're sure you're totally lucid?" Rachel worried. "I can't have you forgetting this moment."

Quinn nodded silently, squeezing Rachel's hand.

"Okay. I'll…be right back." Rachel bit her lip and trotted off to the bathroom. She heard Quinn yelling at Butter while she was in there-a small crash, a whoosh, claws scrabbling against the hardwood-and she returned to the breakfast bar with the two pregnancy tests after a couple minutes.

Quinn sat in the stool with her leg propped up, straining over the counter to wipe up all the spilled cereal.

Rachel rushed to her side and pulled her to sit back. "Don't hurt yourself, baby."

"What do they say?" Quinn swiveled her chair and wrapped an arm around Rachel's waist. She peered eagerly at the pregnancy tests while Rachel dropped a dish towel over the milk.

"Wait another minute, bear."

Quinn bounced her knee and picked at the top of her cast. It was purple-up to her thigh-and signed by all of their friends. Rachel's signature was massive, shoving everybody else to the side. Brittany had drawn a picture of Flappy near Quinn's foot, and James had haphazardly scribbled on her knee when Rachel gave him a marker to play with.

Rachel took Quinn's hand away from picking at the gauze and then glanced at the clock on her phone. "I think it's been long enough." She murmured.

She went to look at the tests, but Quinn tilted in front of her and kissed her instead. She ducked to catch Rachel's gaze when she pulled back.

"Whatever it says, I love you and James more than anything in the world." She said seriously, inches from Rachel's face.

Rachel smiled as her face grew warm. "Me too, baby. I love you."

Quinn nodded resolutely and moved so that they could look at the pregnancy tests.

Rachel squinted as she studied them. Both had minus signs.

Not pregnant.

Rachel felt tears well unexpectedly in her eyes. Quinn had her in her arms instantly-clumsy, because she was rooted to her seat. She kissed the side of Rachel's head.

"We'll try again, baby." She assured.

Rachel gave a wavering sigh.

"We got lucky with James, getting pregnant on the first go." Quinn said softly, right against Rachel's ear. "We'll just try again."

Rachel rubbed at her face and shook her head. "We can't."

Quinn frowned. "What? She pulled back so that she could see Rachel's eyes.

Jelly traipsed through the spilled milk on the counter, leaving little white footprints in her wake.

"Your _leg_." Rachel gestured at the cast. Her voice was unnaturally high because she felt like crying. "You can't-we can't-we'll have to wait until it heals. A few months."

Quinn stared at her, legitimately surprised. Her hazel eyes searched Rachel's face. "Rachel. Do you really think this cast is going to stop me from having sex with you for eight weeks?"

Yes. It was like a third person lying in bed with them. Solid and heavy and absolutely immobile. It depressed Rachel.

"You'll hurt yourself." Rachel said sadly.

"Rachel." Quinn waited until she had her wife's gaze. "We are having sex, baby." She blinked and shook her head around. "I'm-I mean, please. If you'd like to. It may involve some contortion, and you know maybe I should just stop wear-wearing pants because they'll be so hard to get off with this cast, and I'll just-we'll be very careful when we do it."

Quinn seemed so earnest. So worried that Rachel would stop having sex with her because of her broken leg.

Rachel had to laugh. "You'll stop wearing pants?"

Quinn nodded quickly. "I'll only be do-doing work from home-consulting and stuff for a couple weeks-so I don't-what's the point? They'll just get in the way."

Naked at every opportunity. Rachel smiled.

"I know how much you want this." Quinn said quietly. She reached up and tugged on Rachel's ears. "Me too. We're trying again and we're not going to stop until you're carrying our little baby. You know polar bears have one of the lowest reproduction rates of all mammals? It just takes some time."

Rachel was silent for a moment.

"Promise?" She asked timidly. "What if it takes-"

"Two or twelve or twenty times, no bother." Quinn shrugged. "I need a brown-eyed, loud-mouthed little baby. I mean, I know I'm incompetent, but-"

Rachel covered her wife's mouth with her hand.

She watched Quinn's smiling eyes, felt her bite at her palm, bobbled her head around when Quinn pulled on her ears. She couldn't imagine what would happen if she'd lost her. The world would stop spinning. Literally nothing would matter, because everything that did was wrapped up in Quinn's gaze.

Rachel and James. That was the world.

Quinn pried Rachel's hand off her mouth. She pulled her in by her ears and kissed her deeply-because she was just always able to tell when Rachel was going a bit round the bend. Rachel tipped her forehead against Quinn's right as James started crying.

Quinn smiled sweetly at her wife. She played with the hem of her dress, tugging it up a bit. "So…would you like to start now? Or tonight? After lunch?"

Rachel chuckled. She kissed her wife's cheek. "Incompetent moron."

"Clean up my cereal, baby" Quinn poked Rachel's ribs.

"Can you get yourself to the couch?"

Quinn nodded. She slid carefully off the stool when Rachel stepped back, and then used a single crutch to bunny hop herself to the couch. She knocked into the arm and clumsily collapsed sideways across it, but rolled over and smiled widely at Rachel, far too pleased with herself.

Rachel shook her head. "Use both next time." She said, pointing at her wife.

Quinn kept smiling.

"And…we're starting after lunch." Rachel muttered, and then hurried off to James's room.


	32. Chapter 32

AN: This is obviously winding down (_so slowly_), but the insane delay was actually due to exams.

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 32: Fall through Like Change in the Daylight**

"Can you kneel?"

Quinn huffed and shook her head against the pillow. She tugged hopelessly at the sweatpants stuck on her cast and rolled sideways into Rachel. "My leg won't bend, Rachel."

"Maybe you could-"

"No. I can't." Quinn kicked her foot frantically until she had one of her legs freed.

Rachel rolled her eyes and glanced at the empty plastic syringe on the bedside table. She was strung out and _ready_, and everything had been going fine until Quinn had decided to remove her pants. Such a good idea at the time.

She flailed again, trying desperately to get the elastic over her cast, and whined into Rachel's shoulder.

"Leave it, baby." Rachel panted. "Just leave it."

Quinn exhaled sharply and rolled so that she was draped over Rachel. Her cast scratched uncomfortably against Rachel's bare leg, and Quinn pushed herself up until she was crouched like Spiderman between her wife's thighs.

Rachel would've laughed if Quinn didn't look so distressed.

"Relax, baby." She managed to say instead.

"You should be on top." Quinn muttered, finally leaning forward to touch Rachel. She was disheveled and red in the face, and Rachel fully expected her to lose her balance and tip over the edge of the bed.

Rachel hummed with pleasure. "I need…to stay… in this position. Remember?"

Quinn didn't reply. She tilted awkwardly forward to nip at Rachel's neck, nose trailing along her jaw. Rachel kept one hand tangled in blonde hair and the other fisted in her pillow case. She could see Quinn's leg quivering, ready to give out, and she moved her hips faster, hoping to finish before her wife was incapacitated.

"Stop rocking the bed." Quinn mumbled into her neck.

"It's-how-it's _sex_, Quinn."

Quinn dropped her free hand to hold Rachel's hips still, brow furrowed in annoyance.

"So? You're about to knock me over. Hold still."

Rachel bit her tongue and tried to comply. She wouldn't be surprised if she ended up with a rash where Quinn's cast rubbed repeatedly against her thigh.

"Almost…there." Rachel breathed, noticing that Quinn was starting to tilt to the side.

The weight of her cast was dragging her down, sliding her off-center. The world's slowest fall.

"Go…that way." Quinn instructed vaguely, providing no direction whatsoever. She pushed against Rachel's hips and tried to shift more securely onto the bed. "Just…baby, twist that way. Let's-"

Rachel cried out her wife's name right as Quinn went sliding gracefully to the floor.

It would be dramatic to say she disappeared from view. Honestly, Rachel wasn't sure what happened to her. She was in far too much bliss to wonder where Quinn had gone. One second she was there-blonde and heated and heavy on Rachel's leg-and the next she was out of sight.

Rachel registered a muffled thump over her own heavy breathing.

When she could see straight again, she lifted up on her elbows and glanced down at the floor. Quinn sat there, rubbing at her knee and making no move to get back up.

"Bear?" Rachel panted, waving an arm in Quinn's direction. "You're-are you alright?"

Quinn looked up at her wordlessly, unamused and tired. One pant leg was still dangling pathetically from her cast.

"Come here, baby." Rachel requested, smiling when Quinn started to scoot towards her.

Rachel rested a hand on Quinn's messy blonde head as soon as it was close enough. Quinn leaned against the bed and sighed as Rachel played with her hair.

"We might have to cut you out of those." Rachel whispered, pointing at the sweatpants.

Quinn eyed them with disdain.

Rachel scooted closer to the edge of the bed so that she could see Quinn's face. "Come back up here."

"No."

"Aren't you cold on the floor?"

Quinn was silent for a moment. "No."

Rachel leaned over to talk right next to Quinn's ear, careful to keep her hips elevated because it could mean the difference between pregnancy and no pregnancy. If her doctors told her to hang upside down and spin from the ceiling fan for an hour, she'd tell Quinn to grab a ladder and strap her up. Rachel was not taking any chances.

"Do you have a headache, bear?" she whispered, tapping Quinn's ear.

Quinn hummed.

"Was it there when we started?"

Quinn shook her head.

Rachel smiled slightly. "Have you lost your voice?"

Quinn nodded.

"I don't think I believe you."

"Stop pulling my hair." Quinn murmured, tipping her head back against the bed. Rachel scoffed lightly and kissed her forehead. She continued dragging her fingers through blonde hair, smiling to herself when Quinn didn't complain.

"Do you think we did it?" she wondered.

Quinn chuckled quietly and caught Rachel's gaze. "Rachel. We definitely _did it_. Where have you-was that not you just now? In bed? Oh my God." Quinn's eyes widened. "Did I just have-"

"I meant _get pregnant_." Rachel pressed a palm over Quinn's smiling mouth. "Do you think we got pregnant?"

Quinn's smile softened. She held Rachel's wrist lightly and moved her hand away from her mouth.

"It's been about twenty seconds, baby."

Rachel sighed.

Quinn kneeled clumsily, and then stood up and turned around to climb over Rachel onto the bed. She traced her hands over Rachel's bare stomach and then draped herself across Rachel's body, careful to grope as much as possible on the way.

"Excuse me, please. Pardon me." Quinn remarked politely, pausing to kiss her wife's cheeks and stare curiously down at her breasts.

Rachel's chest shook with silent laughter.

Quinn hefted her cast up behind her with a groan, and then dragged the rest of her body over Rachel's. Rachel tugged and pushed on her butt to help her. Quinn finally collapsed into her side, breathless and tangled in sweats and blankets.

"I think you are." She said into Rachel's hair. "I think we did it."

Rachel smiled. "Why do you think that?"

"I'm a genius, Rachel. I know it."

Rachel lightly tapped Quinn's head. "Of course."

"And whatever happens, it's going to be my favorite thing."

"I think you're concussed." Rachel drawled.

"_I_ think…I'm a genius. And you need to listen to me, little bear." Quinn smiled and pressed her nose into Rachel's cheek. "Whatever happens, I can't wait. Because I have you and those brownie things you made this morning. And James. And I have-"

Quinn cut herself off and furrowed her brows. "Actually, did you put cookie dough in them? Or is it just chocolate chips? I found a recipe for-last week-for cookie dough brownies, but they're-they require a whole _tube_ of dough and _that_ doesn't seem like the healthiest-"

"Baby." Rachel chuckled and tapped her wife's cheek. "It's just the chips."

Quinn stared distractedly at the ceiling fan. She sat up abruptly and scooted to the edge of the bed. Rachel nodded, unsurprised.

"I'm getting one." Quinn informed, trying to pat down her hair. "You stay here. Do you want-I can make you something, maybe. A sandwich? Strawberries?"

"I'm fine, baby." Rachel shook her head.

Quinn nodded and stood from the bed, balanced on one leg. She ignored her crutches in the corner of the room and eyed the hallway with determination. Rachel didn't bother telling her to be careful. She sat back in her pillows and watched her wife bunny hop her way to a brownie, dragging sweatpants along behind her.

~ooooooooooooo~

"I like Alex."

"For a boy or girl?" Quinn swung across the living room floor on her crutches, her third attempt at making it to the kitchen without letting her feet touch the hardwood.

Rachel shrugged from the couch. "Both."

"Yeah, _no_, that's our name." Santana shook her head at Rachel and patted Brittany's belly. "We have dibs. You can have…Nacho Fosco or some shit like that. Just don't tell Sam."

"You can't call dibs on _all_ of the names, Santana. Yours isn't even born yet."

Quinn swung her leg up too high and staggered sideways into the wall. She leaned against it and pointed a crutch at Rachel. "Baby, we're not even pregnant. They're a few steps ahead."

Rachel crossed her arms. "We could be pregnant." She muttered petulantly. "You don't know."

"Baby Nacho." Santana stared thoughtfully at the wall, bouncing James on her lap. "Maybe something fun, like Octavia. Or Damian Berry-Fabray, spawn of the devil."

Brittany nodded enthusiastically. "Or something unique. Like Thor. Or Zebra."

"I like Jemima." Quinn managed to get out before tripping forward over Barnaby. She let her crutches clatter to the floor and hopped around to play with him.

Rachel stared at her. "_Jemima_. Like the pancakes."

Quinn's eyes lit up like that hadn't occurred to her.

"Little Debbie Berry-Fabray." Santana laughed loudly and James joined in, delighted with the sound. He scrunched up his face and twisted to see Santana's.

"No, like Jeremy and Jemima. From _Chitty Chitty Bang Bang_." Quinn clarified. She bent forward precariously and lifted her crutches, and then swung her way over to Rachel. Rachel put a steadying hand on her wife's side when she clumsily draped herself over the back of the couch.

"Jeremy's cute." Rachel mused.

Quinn rested her chin on Rachel's shoulder. "And Jemima."

Santana scoffed. "Please don't become one of _those_ families. Twelve kids whose names all start with the letter J. Damn fools."

"You're in one of those families, San." Brittany informed with a smile.

Rachel ignored them. She wondered if naming her daughter Jemima was worth thinking of pancakes at least once a day for the rest of her life. Every single time she called her child's name she'd get that mental picture. Aunt Jemima, homestyle pancakes. Baby buttermilk Berry.

It would nearly be as bad as Nacho. She frowned and tapped Quinn's cheek.

"Maybe if you shortened it." She offered.

_Or tried something else entirely._

"Emmy. Emma. And something that doesn't start with a J for a boy."

"Rupert." Quinn said immediately-loudly-into Rachel's ear. "Like Rupert Bear, from the books."

Santana shook her head sagely, bouncing her knees to make James giggle. "Jay, man, I don't know how you got out of there with an acceptable name."

"We already have a Christopher Robin, Quinn. Do we really need-"

"Rupert's a sweet name." Quinn protested. "Rupert Rollo Berry-Fabray."

Rachel snorted a laugh. She brought a hand up to wrap around Quinn's neck, pulling her closer. "Rollo? Seriously?"

"Maybe…not Rollo." Quinn amended uncertainly. She untangled herself from Rachel and hobbled around to sit on the couch. "He's just another character in the books. I like Rupert Bear."

Rachel gazed at her, mulling the name over.

Quinn flushed and shook her head around. "Or something-something else. It doesn't have to be-you-we liked Thomas."

Rachel smiled and leaned forward to help Quinn prop her cast up on the coffee table. "Just thinking, bear."

"Mommy!" James declared, bouncing wildly in Santana's lap. Santana lightly held the back of his shirt to keep him from tipping forward. He waited until he had Quinn's attention and then shook his whole upper body around, knocking his head into Santana's chin.

"Hello, sweetheart!" Quinn waved happily back at him.

Santana rubbed her chin. "Hard-headed little-"

"Do you want to go and give him his snack?" Rachel interrupted, gesturing at the kitchen. Brittany nodded immediately, seizing Santana's shoulder to heave herself up off the couch. "He can have bananas and peanut butter. He'll try to get away with eating only the peanut butter though, so watch him."

Quinn hummed. "Mama needs to stop buying bananas."

Rachel tipped sideways against the arm of the couch, dragging Quinn with her. "You love bananas."

"I prefer peanut butter." Quinn remarked, lips quirked. "Jif could be a name. Reese. Skittle. Peppermint Patty."

Rachel prodded Quinn's ribs. "What about your mother's name?" she suggested quietly. "Mae. For a girl."

Quinn was silent for a moment. She fiddled with the rubber band on her wrist.

"That's…Yes, that's nice." She finally said, smiling softly. "For-maybe-I don't think it should be the first name. Maybe for a middle name.

Rachel nodded easily.

"She bought me all my Rupert Bear books. And Pooh Bear. And _Chitty Chitty Bang Bang_."

Rachel smiled and hugged Quinn closer.

Quinn frowned. "Is it-do we-I mean, I don't remember her very well. Is that-is that alright to name a child after her? That's…She could have been a completely different person than how I think of her."

"No, bear." Rachel said quickly, surely, ignoring Brittany singing the Bananas in Pajamas song in the background.

Quinn narrowed her eyes at Rachel. "What do you mean _no_?"

"Your mother made you." Rachel smiled. "And your father. It wasn't where you grew up, or your neighbors, or Lisa, or the kids at school. They could've ruined you. But your mom gave you four years of bears and music and unconditional love, and you've managed to hold onto that all this time."

Quinn pursed her lips, gaze fixed on Rachel.

"I would _love_ to have a daughter named after your mom." Rachel continued earnestly. "And I want my babies to come out just how hers did."

Quinn flushed and pressed her face into Rachel's chest, trying to suppress her smile.

"We should get your old pictures out more often." Rachel slipped the rubber band from Quinn's wrist and held her hand still. "You were probably the sweetest baby."

"Our baby's the sweetest baby." Quinn said, muffled by Rachel's shirt.

Rachel grinned. "Our baby sits on his bananas so that all he has to eat is peanut butter."

"Our baby's resourceful. He's telling mama to stop buying bananas."

Rachel scoffed. "He's telling _mommy_ to stop teaching him that it's okay to eat peanut butter by itself."

"I did exactly the same thing growing up." Quinn's eyes danced. "And you want our babies to come out exactly like me, right?"

"No, actually. I don't know what I was thinking." Rachel shook her head.

"Of course you do, little bear."

"It would be awful." Rachel drawled, slipping the rubber band back onto Quinn's wrist when her wife reached for it.

Quinn sighed. "Jemima Mae Berry-Fabray."

All Rachel could see were the chocolate chip pancakes Quinn had made for breakfast.

"We'll think it over." She assured.

"Oh my God, he's sitting on them!" Santana screeched in the background. "He's sitting on the bananas. Rachel-he's-what the hell have you been teaching this child?"

Quinn laughed against Rachel's neck as "Bananas in Pajamas" drowned out Santana's cries.

~oooooooooooo~

Butter was fourteen years old, according to Quinn. She'd lost weight over the years, especially after George died, so she no longer looked like the bottom ball of a snowman, but her disturbingly different-colored eyes had grown hazy.

Quinn sat on the floor of the living room with a small paper bag and a stethoscope. She gave the cat fluids first, a subcutaneous injection right between her shoulder blades, a daily ritual. Quinn then wrapped a potassium tablet up in a cat treat and stuffed it into the corner of Butter's mouth. She put her hand over the cat's nostrils until she felt her swallow.

Rachel could hear her wife chattering away- right into Butter's ear-but she couldn't make out the words.

Quinn held Butter up by her scruff, one hand under her belly to support her weight. She loosened her grip to see if Butter would stay standing, but the cat didn't even bother to try to hold herself up.

Quinn sighed and sat back and rubbed behind Butter's ears.

"Can she lift her head?" Rachel asked quietly, watching from the breakfast bar.

"A little bit."

Rachel stood up and moved to the living room. She crouched next to Quinn and studied Butter sadly. The cat looked content, purring away as Quinn rubbed her ears. She eyed Rachel, and Rachel wondered when those alien eyes had become so endearing.

"She's the same as George was." Rachel remarked softly.

Quinn nodded.

Rachel reached over and played with the back of Quinn's collar. "What comes next, baby?"

Quinn puffed out her cheeks. "His kidneys are shutting down." She met Rachel's worried gaze. "The ulcers will get worse, gastrointestinal bleeding, coma…death."

Poor fat Butter.

Rachel rested a hand on her fur and felt her chest rumble.

"Do you think we should-soon-I mean, should we-" Rachel paused and licked her lips. Quinn tugged her closer, knocking her out of her crouching position. Rachel tumbled into her side and hugged Quinn's arm.

"Yes, babe." Quinn murmured.

"We're losing all of our animals."

"They're getting old." Quinn nodded.

Rachel tugged on Butter's tail until the cat swatted lazily at her hand with a paw.

"And we're gaining babies." Rachel smiled slightly. Their pets had been her family for eight years. They were basically her babies as well. Each one told a story.

Butter and George were the fatso cats they adopted on the day Quinn gave her speech at the animal rescue open house.

Cloud filled the place of their lovely, fluffy Pongo, while Cornelius entered the household as a demon puppy in a shoebox.

"Hey, Charizard." Quinn called, clapping her thighs to get the dog's attention. Charizard sat quietly near the front door, watching the scene in the living room. "Come here, dog."

Charizard ambled over stiffly, wagging his tail. He laid down with his back to Butter's and vaguely offered Quinn one of his paws. She took it and squeezed it and scratched at the white fur around his eyes.

"Char's a mighty fellow." Quinn muttered to nobody in particular. Maybe Rachel, maybe an animal. Probably just to herself. Rachel watched her fondly.

"Char eats fire." Quinn continued, rubbing his tummy. "Who needs noses? He certainly doesn't. And that's-"

Quinn cut herself off as a black and white bundle rocketed out of the hallway. Cornelius seemed to have abruptly realized that there were people _sitting on the floor_-his level, ready to play with him-and he bounded around Rachel and dove straight for her slipper.

Rachel indulged him because the silky black fur around his eyes was turning white as well.

Barnaby and Cloud followed, with Jelly Bean stalking slowly behind. The orange cat leapt onto the breakfast bar-knocking off several pens and paper clips-and watched the scene, head tipped curiously.

"Jelly will be the last cat left." Rachel said with difficulty, struggling to keep hold of her slipper.

Quinn blew into Seal's ear to distract him and he bounced into her lap. She wrapped him in a loose headlock and rolled on top of him on the floor. Barnaby snuffled through Quinn's hair and Cloud lunged repeatedly at the curious purple cast. Rachel pulled Butter into her arms and kissed her head and laughed loudly.

If ever there was a way to say goodbye. Butter had to know she was loved.

"We need-I'd like three kittens." Quinn smiled at Rachel and shoved at Cornelius' face. "Like in _The Aristocats_, named Toulouse, Berlioz, and Marie."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Maybe not _three_, bear."

Quinn tossed a squeaky toy across the room to get the dogs away from her. She looked at Rachel and softened at the sight of Butter.

"Maybe we'll take a break after chubby Butter." She offered, fixing the slipper on Rachel's foot.

Rachel shook her head. She knew it wouldn't happen.

Quinn smiled sweetly. The first day Quinn was able to take the stairs and leave the house, Rachel fully expected her to come home with a stray. And Rachel would huff and puff and welcome it with open arms.

~ooooooooooooo~

"Just do it, Rachel."

Rachel tipped back into the pillows on her dressing room couch and sighed loudly. She covered her face and rubbed at her eyes. "I have to be on stage in fifteen minutes."

"Because you've been stalling for an hour." Quinn picked up a crutch and prodded it into Rachel's side. "Take the test, baby."

It had been sitting in Rachel's bag for two days now, weighing her down.

Rachel stayed silent.

"I hobbled all the way here, sweetheart." Quinn said gently, hanging on her crutches. She reached out with her good leg and knocked it against Rachel's knee. "We almost plummeted down the stairs together. My knee is throbbing and I'd _really_ like to know if we're going to have another baby."

Rachel puffed out her cheeks and stared up at Quinn.

"Please?" Quinn smiled and leaned forward, looming over Rachel until their faces were inches apart. Rachel could smell the Jolly Ranchers on her breath.

"Please, baby? Honey? Sugar puff? Frosted flake? Cinnamon Toast Crunch?"

Rachel snorted lightly. "You're just listing cereals." She pushed against Quinn's chest to get some personal space back, and Quinn dropped heavily next to her on the couch.

"I need to mix Rice Krispies with cake frosting and see what happens." Quinn mused quietly.

Rachel picked at the hem of Quinn's dress.

"Or grind up Cocoa Puffs to make my own chocolate milk. Have you-I could emulsify that yogurt you like with some thin milk, and-do we have a blender?" Quinn blinked rapidly and scratched at her thigh. "One that-one that hasn't been used for dog food? Rachel, if we got some Honey Bunches of Oats, and mixed-"

"_Quinn_." Rachel laughed shortly. She held up the pregnancy test and watched her wife's focus return. Quinn held her hands still, eyes sharp.

"What if it says no?" Rachel wondered.

"We keep going." Quinn supplied immediately. She squeezed Rachel's hand and nudged her shoulder. "Don't slow down, baby."

Rachel swallowed and glanced at the clock on the wall.

"Eight minutes." Quinn whispered.

Rachel bit her lip. She leaned forward and stood slowly, and Quinn hooked a finger around her belt loop and tapped her butt supportively. Rachel didn't say anything as she strode off towards the bathroom, but she looked back and smiled at how carefully she was being watched.

She took the test in the bathroom, and then changed into her costume while she waited for the results. Quinn was swinging through the dressing room when Rachel shuffled back out, test in hand.

"Ready in three, baby." Quinn said quietly, dropping her crutches to fix Rachel's hair and the collar of her dress.

Rachel realized it probably wasn't the most opportune time to have taken a pregnancy test.

She took a breath and shut her eyes and held up the test for Quinn to see. Quinn made a small noise of surprise and steadied Rachel's wrist.

"You don't want to see?" she asked evenly. Rachel heard no joy or disappointment in her wife's tone.

"No."

"You're absolutely sure you don't want to open your eyes right now, Rachel?"

"_Yes_. Hurry up and tell me, please." Rachel's voice was strained. She felt Quinn step closer, smelled the Jolly Ranchers on her breath again.

"I think you want to open your eyes, Rachel."

Rachel complied, only because she could hear the smile in Quinn's voice. Quinn pried the pregnancy test out of her hand and locked her arms around Rachel's waist. She stared down at her wife, poker-faced.

"Well?" Rachel lifted her eyebrows and dug her nails into Quinn's arm.

Quinn tipped her head. "Did you know human pregnancy tests are a type of enzyme-linked immunosorbent assay?"

Rachel narrowed her eyes.

"It tests for hormones."

"Quinn, shut-if you don't-just tell me what-"

Quinn kissed Rachel to stop her stuttering and then swayed her from side to side. "Will you be kissing our babies with that mouth?"

Rachel huffed and rolled her eyes. And then stopped to think. A smile spread across Quinn's face and she ran her hands up Rachel's bare arms.

"Is it positive?" Rachel whispered when her brain caught up to Quinn's words.

Quinn nodded, smiling softly. Rachel shot forward without a second thought, knocking Quinn off balance and into the arm of the couch. She was airborne when she remembered that Quinn only had one leg to stand on, but Quinn was laughing so loudly as she toppled backwards that Rachel figured this was alright.

"Thirty seconds, Mrs. Berry!" An assistant shouted from the dressing room door.

Rachel gasped. She was pumped-hands shaking, heart racing, cheeks flushed-and she sloppily kissed Quinn's laughing lips before clambering back to her feet and smoothing down her dress. She bounced excitedly away, leaving her wife sprawled over the couch arm ten yards away from her crutches.

"Love you, little bear." Quinn called, pointing in Rachel's vague direction.

Rachel would grind up Cocoa Puffs with a mortar and pestle just to make chocolate milk for that woman. She'd buy chocolate frosting and Rice Krispies and name her baby Jemima Pancake.

All Rachel managed to shriek was "Love you too!" as she stepped out of the dressing room.

And then she stepped on stage- pregnant and flustered- with the taste of apple Jolly Ranchers on her tongue.


	33. Chapter 33

AN: There are only 4 chapters after this one. If there's anything you'd like to see, you should let me know now!

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 33: It's a You and Me House**

While Quinn's pregnancy had been relatively easy, Rachel had come to the conclusion that she was carrying the spawn of the devil. The child was doing things to her- painful, gross, gut rumbling, uncomfortable things.

She retched into the kitchen sink one last time and then bent at the waist and rested her forehead on the counter. She whined pathetically into her arm and listened to the rushed footsteps coming from the hallway.

"Oh, baby." Quinn said gently, coming up behind her and rubbing lightly on Rachel's back. She avoided glancing at the sink at all costs and leaned forward to see Rachel's face.

"You couldn't make it to the bathroom?"

Oh, she could. She just thought it'd be more exciting to puke all over the dishes in the sink.

Rachel rolled her forehead against the counter miserably.

"That's okay." Quinn assured softly. She blindly turned on the water and then swatted for the garbage disposal, grimacing at the sound of whatever was going down the drain.

Rachel caught her expression out of the corner of her eye and smiled slightly.

"Do you think you're finished?" Quinn asked.

Rachel shrugged tiredly. Yes or no. It always came upon her like a wave. She'd have a sudden need to vomit, and then she'd keep going until she felt like death. All day. She disgusted herself. Even James was repulsed.

Quinn grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. "Come on, baby." She urged, gently pulling on Rachel's shoulder to get her to stand upright. She leaned heavily into Quinn's side, groaning like a zombie and one wrong step away from pitching forward and throwing up all over the hardwood.

Quinn moved slowly, humming the Thomas the Tank Engine tune because James was watching it in the living room. She deposited Rachel on the couch, and Rachel curled up into a ball and pressed her face against the cushions.

She was valiantly trying to keep it all together, keep everything down. Her cheeks burned with nausea and the pillows were comforting and soft.

"Maybe I'll stay home." Quinn said quietly, concerned. She grazed a hand over Rachel's forehead.

Rachel smiled wryly, hesitant to open her mouth too wide. "You've been home for two months, bear." She tapped where she knew Quinn's knee brace was under her slacks. "Get back to the zoo. Who let you out of your cage anyway?

Quinn ignored her statement, searching Rachel's face. Rachel tried to make it seem like her insides weren't about to become outsides. She was only able to pull it off because James laughed loudly at Thomas on the television.

She could be inches from death- she probably was, actually- and that would always make her smile.

James got up from the floor, still in his pajamas, and toddled hurriedly over to the couch, dragging his blanket. His smile was wide and his fluffy blonde hair curled into his eyes. Quinn put a hand on his head and dropped a kiss there before he could climb onto Rachel's lap.

"Did you bring this for mama?" Quinn wondered, pointing at his blanket.

James glanced at her, then at the blanket, then at Rachel. He shook his head slightly, confused, swaying where he stood.

Quinn chuckled. "Oh, you didn't?" She wrapped an arm around James and patted his bottom. "Okay then. Mama can have a different blanket."

James nodded absently. He looked back at Rachel and grinned, and then pointed at the television. "Mama! See?"

Rachel hummed. "I do, Jimbo. That's Thomas, right?"

"And trains." James chuckled at himself.

Quinn tickled his sides and leaned forward until she was inches from his face. "Hey, Christopher Robin. How about we let mama rest for a bit, okay? Let's watch the rest of Thomas."

James tipped forward into Quinn's legs, giggling against her thigh. The sight actually made Rachel forget about her nausea for half a second. And then it was back. James laughed like Quinn was being ridiculous and then turned and tripped over his blanket.

"'Kay, mommy." He said happily, crawling back to his spot on the floor.

Rachel took a deep breath and pressed her fingers over her mouth.

Quinn turned to her, frowning sadly. "I'll get you a bucket, baby."

"I can make it to the bathroom."

Quinn looked dubious.

"Or…at least the kitchen sink." Rachel amended. She tipped to the side and nuzzled into Quinn's shoulder.

Quinn wrapped her arms around her little ball of a wife. "Can I bring you anything after work?" She pressed her cheek against Rachel's head. "Crackers? Oatmeal? Dinosaur oatmeal? Dinosaur crackers?"

Rachel hesitated, toying with Quinn's sleeve. Quinn ducked lower to catch her gaze. Her hazel eyes were warm and encouraging and bright, like always.

Rachel sighed, resigned.

"Chicken nuggets." She mumbled, almost inaudibly.

She was so ashamed.

Quinn's brow lifted slowly.

"It's- I tried the vegan substitute!" Rachel defended immediately. She rubbed her volatile stomach and whined against Quinn's shoulder. "They're not- I need chicken nuggets. Please. I'm so…I need them. I just do."

Quinn smiled at her. "Raaachel." She dragged out. She squeezed Rachel closer and kissed all over her head. "Remember the onions? It's okay to want chicken nuggets. Baby needs chicken nuggets._ I_ need chicken nuggets."

Rachel played with Quinn's collar. "You'll bring me some?" she asked quietly.

"Of course I will."

"Not McNuggets, though." Rachel scrunched up her nose. "Just chicken nuggets."

"And a McFlurry." Quinn nodded thoughtfully.

Rachel snorted. "No, bear. Focus. You should go to work."

Quinn smiled.

Rachel sat up a bit and tapped her knee brace. "Don't take this off." She said, eyeing Quinn seriously. "Don't try to…go running around with the animals. Leave it on all day. I'll know if you don't."

Quinn would be unable to meet her eyes. She'd be shifty and extra sweet, she'd probably stutter. Rachel pushed at Quinn's shoulders.

"Now get lost, you."

Quinn leaned back in for a goodbye kiss.

Rachel grimaced and turned away. "No, no, baby. I'm all gross."

"Mm-mm." Quinn shook her head. She trapped Rachel against the back of the couch and sloppily kissed her face, and then she bent and kissed her belly. She crossed the room and kissed James next, wrapping him up in a bear hug.

"Take care of mama." She told him, smiling at Rachel.

She left the room with an "I love you, babies," thrown over her shoulder, loudly questioning if Rachel would like Oreos or M & M's in her McFlurry.

~ooooooooooooo~

Only a week later, Rachel rolled around in bed, frustrated and exhausted and trying to find a position that would get rid of her cramps and ease the roiling of her stomach. She curled and uncurled her limbs, stretched onto her back, kicked off her sheets, whined loudly into the pillow, and finally realized James was crying.

She flung a hand out beside her, too far gone to even care that it landed heavily on Quinn's face.

Quinn groaned and blindly caught Rachel's wrist, and then rolled on top of her arm to hold it still. She blinked into the darkness and rubbed the spot where Rachel's hand had landed.

"You need to get James." Rachel said shortly, wide awake, eyes blazing because it was one in the morning and she had yet to fall asleep. She'd just get more annoyed every time she glanced at the clock, and warmer, so that she was radiating heat and a little out of her mind.

Quinn was in bed with a psychopathic furnace.

"What, Rach?" Quinn mumbled, sitting up. She caught sight of the blankets, pillow, cell phone, and water bottle all on the floor of Rachel's side of the bed and frowned.

"What are-"

"James is crying. You need to get him." Rachel said again, contorting so that she was spread diagonally across the bed. It seemed to east the discomfort.

Quinn stared at her.

Rachel raised her eyebrows impatiently. "Are you awake, Quinn? You need to get James."

Quinn nodded slightly. She ran a hand through her hair and rubbed at her eyes. "Yeah. I…okay." She said quietly, rolling herself out of bed.

Rachel was only able to lie comfortably for a minute or two before the cramps returned. She growled, exasperated, and turned all the way over onto her stomach. She let one leg dangle off the bed and bent her head back at a ninety degree angle.

James grew louder, and Rachel balled her fists up in her pillowcase and turned to see Quinn carry him through the doorway. He was shrieking and red-faced, rubbing at his ear with one hand and clinging to Quinn with the other.

"I think he's got an ear infection." Quinn said loudly, holding him close.

Rachel untwisted her limbs and sat up abruptly, eyes wide.

"He's very warm." Quinn observed.

Rachel fell out of bed and hurried to check over James herself. "Oh my-is he-do we go to the hospital?" She fretted. She rubbed his back lightly and patted his hair down while he screamed into Quinn's ear.

Quinn winced at his volume. "Since he's only fifteen months, I think we should."

"Well get your-get your stuff." Rachel clipped, swaying on her feet, suddenly remembering why she'd been lying down.

Because it was one in the morning and her stomach was revolting.

Quinn eyed her warily. "I'll-yeah-I'll just grab-"

James cut Quinn off with a pained wail. He rubbed his ear against her shoulder and Quinn felt his forehead, concerned.

"He was _fine_ when he went to sleep." Rachel complained over the shrieking. She bent at the waist to remove her pajama pants and decided to stay bent over for a moment because it seemed to ease her discomfort.

Quinn blinked at her. "What..."

She trailed off, confused. She stood in the middle of the room, in bare feet and pajamas with bed hair and sleep lines on her face, with a red-faced one-year-old clinging to her and bawling in her ear.

And Rachel was bent at the waist in her underwear desperately trying not to vomit.

"No, he was-he was a little off at dinner." Quinn finally said, bouncing James up and down. "He didn't eat his macaroni."

Rachel straightened up and threw her hands in the air. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?" she nearly yelled to be heard over James. She whirled around to find some pants to change into.

"Rachel," Quinn tried, stepping after her. James swung a hand blindly and it collided with her cheek, and Quinn recoiled and gently grabbed his arm to lower it.

"Honey, Jimbo, please. Shhhh." She soothed, fidgeting in place.

"He could have antibiotics by now." Rachel plowed on, yanking some sweatpants out of the dresser. "He would be sleeping soundly. We wouldn't be heading to the hospital in the middle of the night."

"You can-you can stay here if you like." Quinn's voice shook.

"No, that's alright." Rachel laughed humorlessly. She pulled on the pants and then stayed bent at the waist. "I'd be awake anyway. I'm always awake and I'm always sick because I'm carrying a demon baby, Quinn."

She was being carried away around some kind of manic bend.

"That's an awful-"

"That's what it is!" Rachel screeched, spinning around. "All those happy, glowy tales of pregnancy are lies! Isn't this experience supposed to be magical? I bought scrapbooks for this, Quinn."

Rachel scoffed. "You seemed alright. I've never felt worse in my life!"

She was just about out of her mind. Sleepless, overheated, hormonal, probably deafened by now. Tears burned her eyes and James shrieked even louder.

And then Quinn shook her head around- once, twice- and Rachel caught the action. Quinn's fingers were frantically dancing over her thigh. She was blinking rapidly, breathing shallowly.

"Shit." Rachel muttered, moving forward quickly.

Apparently she was fueling a breakdown. She took James from Quinn's arms and hurried down the hall to put him back in his toddler bed for a moment.

"I'll be right back, Jimbo." She assured, kissing his head and pausing to catch her own breath.

Rachel returned to find that Quinn hadn't moved. She reached out for Quinn's arm, but Quinn stepped away, pulling anxiously at the rubber band around her wrist.

"You can't just off-go off on me in the mor-middle of the night, Rachel!" She rolled over her words, eyes unfocused.

Rachel took a deep, calming breath. Don't throw up. Don't keel over. Don't pass out.

Simple enough.

"I'm sorry, baby." She said carefully, stepping forward to get her hands on Quinn. She backed Quinn up against the wall and slipped the rubber band from her wife's wrist. "Just breathe, honey."

"It's-I can't-it's the middle of the night. I can't things-do things like this." Quinn fumbled, rubbing at her face.

"I know. I know." Rachel said softly. She exaggerated her inhales to match Quinn's. "You're a daytime person."

Quinn shook her head around. "That's not what-that's not what-" she groaned hopelessly. "Help me, Rachel."

Rachel spied Barnaby sitting in the doorway, watching the scene. "Come here, dog." She called without letting go of Quinn. She urged Quinn to slide to the floor. Barnaby walked over stiffly, tail wagging.

Rachel knelt in front of her wife, studying her carefully. It wasn't really a panic attack- Quinn hadn't had any in over a year. It was on the edge, but not full blown. Anxiety at most, because it was loud and unscheduled and everybody around her was flipping out.

Rachel kissed Quinn's hands and then settled them in Barnaby's fur. Quinn exhaled sharply from her nose. Her blinking slowed so that she could examine the dog properly.

She frowned at Rachel. "What are-why are-"

"Just love on him." Rachel said quickly, pleased to see that Quinn was taking larger breaths. "Kiss him. Kiss his face. Tell me…his heart rate or something."

Rachel rolled her eyes at herself. Really, her she couldn't function properly in the middle of the night. Neither could her wife or her baby, apparently. James's shrieking was drifting through the open door.

Quinn didn't say anything. She didn't recite anything. She sat with Rachel's hand on her knee, scratching Barnaby's back and rubbing his tummy and breathing with him and letting his golden fur tangle around her fingers.

Rachel tapped consistently against her leg. She slid her hand along Quinn's thigh after five minutes. "I don't think our baby's a demon." She said quietly.

Quinn snorted. She looked at Rachel, eyes clear.

"I really don't." Rachel continued, smiling tiredly. "But it acts like one sometimes."

"It's making things as dramatic as possible." Quinn suggested roughly. She squeezed Rachel'shand. "Which sounds pretty familiar."

"Hey." Rachel tipped against the wall, absolutely out of energy. She would definitely be able to fall asleep now.

Except it was still the middle of the night and she still had to take her baby to the hospital.

"Do you feel better?" Quinn wondered quietly, climbing to her feet before helping Rachel up. She brushed the dog hair off both of them.

Rachel nodded. She no longer felt the need to bend herself in half to ease the cramps.

"I love you, bear." She murmured, catching Quinn by the arm before she could leave the room. She kissed the corner of Quinn's mouth and brushed the messy hair out of her eyes, and then pushed her gently down the hallway towards James's room.

"Grab his wooly hat, baby. Please." Rachel requested. "Let's try this again."

Quinn nodded. She still looked mildly confused. She always did when she was supposed to be sleeping. "Love you too." she mouthed, overpowered by James's crying.

Barnaby lay against the wall dozing happily with all four feet in the air.

~ooooooooooooo~

"You are perfectly healthy, Rachel."

Rachel narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the doctor. There was no way. The dark shadows under her eyes, abdominal discomfort, and endless vomit told a different story.

He smiled at her. "Really. Morning sickness and cramps are more severe in some women than others. Everything looks fine."

"Everything." Rachel repeated evenly, swinging her heels into the bottom of the exam table.

"Everything."

"You're positive my blood pressure isn't elevated? I'm getting the appropriate amounts of all my vitamins? There are no…_beings_ growing in my uterus or stomach other than our baby?"

Quinn snorted at this, staring at the side of Rachel's head. Rachel ignored her.

"Mrs. Berry, I cannot find a single problem." The doctor repeated slowly, amused. "Maybe you could do with more sleep, but that will come when the discomfort fades after the first trimester."

Rachel scoffed lightly. "_Sleep_." She muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

She'd forgotten what it was like.

Quinn said something quietly to the doctor and then stood in front of the exam table between Rachel's dangling legs. She squeezed Rachel's knees and leaned in close to her face.

"You're being a grump." Quinn whispered, smiling fondly.

Rachel rolled her eyes and tried to shove her away.

"I know how to make you feel better." Quinn informed, easily catching Rachel's hands.

Rachel sighed heavily. She kicked her feet forward against Quinn's legs, but Quinn stood solidly, unflinching.

"I can't do six more months of this." Rachel said pitifully.

Quinn studied her, lips quirked. "When you do the things that you can do, you'll find a way."

Rachel actually groaned at that. She recognized it from Pooh Bear or Rupert Bear or Yogi Bear. The Bear in the Big Blue goddamn House. Any fictional, cartoon bear who filled their home.

"Hey." Quinn smiled. She tugged on Rachel's ears. "Don't roll your eyes at me, baby. I can make you feel better."

"You can't." Rachel said glumly.

"I think I can."

Rachel shook her head.

"This feeling is only going to last for a little bit longer, sweetheart." Quinn said quietly, seriously. She covered Rachel's ears and held her gaze. "And then we'll have another beautiful baby, like James."

"James is screaming his head off at home with an ear infection." Rachel mumbled, smile tugging at her lips. She pictured his teary, red face and glazed eyes.

"And I have news." Quinn whispered, eyes sparkling.

Rachel took Quinn's hands from her ears and held them in her lap. "What?" she wondered, still kicking lightly at Quinn's legs.

"I can't tell you yet." Quinn shook her head.

Rachel stared at her, unamused.

Quinn smiled softly. "Be nice to me, Rachel."

Rachel's expression melted. She ceased her kicking and squeezed Quinn's hands. "What do you need, bear?"

"Just a kiss." Quinn shrugged, tipping forward.

Rachel laughed wryly and obliged. Quinn made a small, victorious noise in the back of her throat and then fell fully against Rachel, refusing to support any of her own weight. Rachel gripped tightly to her sweatshirt and laughed loudly against her lips.

"You're-Quinn-you're slipping." Rachel snorted, watching Quinn slither towards the floor.

Quinn stood back up again, smiling widely. She squeezed Rachel's knees and watched her for a moment. Rachel ducked her head under her wife's stare.

"It's a girl." Quinn finally said.

Rachel's gaze shot back up, eyes wide. Her neck cracked painfully and her heart took off. She didn't need to say anything, to ask Quinn to clarify. Watery hazel eyes were proof that Rachel had heard correctly.

Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck, her legs around Quinn's waist.

"It's a girl." Rachel repeated, strangled and happy.

She clung tightly to Quinn. Her stomach pitched dangerously, probably due to sheer relief. It was a baby girl. She was not a demon. And she would probably be _just like_ Rachel.

~ooooooooooooo~

"I will find you a comfortable position, Rachel." Quinn said resolutely, toppling onto the bed. She fumbled her way toward Rachel and loomed over her. "I promise."

"That…is a ridiculous thing to promise." Rachel smiled.

Quinn was wearing no pants because she couldn't find them. And because Rachel had been complaining so petulantly about not sleeping that it had distracted Quinn from her search. Rachel wrapped a leg around Quinn's thigh to trap her.

"It's not." Quinn shook her head. She ducked so that all of her hair went into Rachel's face and mouth.

Rachel pushed her back and Quinn bounced lightly on her hands and knees.

"I'll just ruin your night." Rachel protested, smiling at her wife's behavior. "I'll make you uncomfortable and neither of us will get any sleep."

Quinn rolled her eyes. She let herself fall gently on top of Rachel, and then squeezed her and rolled them over until Rachel was on top. She kept rolling from side to side because Rachel was shaking with laughter.

"This is so uncomfortable for me." Quinn complained loudly. "You're too warm, too soft, too sweet. I wish I were anywhere else in the world."

Rachel laughed. "You love me."

Quinn groaned, shaking her head. She stopped rolling and scrunched up her nose, repulsed. "I would never say that. You're insufferable."

"You can't lie to me."

"I lie all the time." Quinn scoffed.

Rachel narrowed her eyes challengingly. "Name one time."

Quinn didn't miss a beat. She quirked an eyebrow and held Rachel's gaze. "When I feed waffles to Cornelius and tell you I ate them."

"Nope." Rachel was shaking her head before Quinn even finished her sentence. "Things like that don't count. I know about them."

Quinn blinked at her, smug smile fading. Like she'd been proud of getting away with feeding Cornelius waffles.

Rachel bounced gently on top of her, amused. "Name something else."

Quinn's eyes flickered away. Her mouth moved absently but no words came out. Rachel traced her jaw while she thought.

"You don't lie, bear." Rachel said after a minute passed.

Quinn puffed her cheeks out and blew the air into Rachel's face. "I could if I was so inclined."

"But you just enjoy sharing everything with me." Rachel laughed.

Quinn sighed exaggeratedly. She patted her hands over Rachel's butt. "You just-you just mess everything up, Rachel. Why are you even here right now?"

"Hey. Shush." Rachel prodded Quinn's cheeks.

"I'm so uncomfortable right now." Quinn drawled.

Rachel propped her chin on Quinn's chest contentedly. She closed her eyes, rising and falling with every breath Quinn took.

Quinn watched her. She lifted a hand to drag it through Rachel's hair. "You don't lie either, baby." She pointed out.

"I think I do." Rachel said quietly.

"To me?"

Rachel opened her eyes and shook her head, frowning. "No, no. Of course not."

Quinn hummed. She scratched lightly at Rachel's head, and Rachel realized she was actually comfortable. She could fall asleep in this position. She turned her head so that her ear was pillowed on Quinn's chest.

"I think I want to take another break from the stage." She admitted softly. "Not just when the baby's born. I feel a couple of years should be adequate."

Maybe eighteen or so. Just until her babies go out on their own.

Quinn nodded slowly. "That's not lying, little bear."

"I haven't told anybody."

"Your fans will understand." Quinn smiled.

Rachel was silent.

"_I _understand." Quinn tapped lightly along Rachel's sides. "Why wouldn't you want to spend more time with me? I'm charming."

"Stop yourself." Rachel chuckled drily.

Quinn blew more air into her face. Rachel scrunched up her nose and turned away.

"If your fans can forgive you for the four years I dragged you to California, they can handle a couple here." Quinn reasoned. She lolled her head sideways. "You'll still be out and about. Maybe you can do special appearances."

Rachel nodded.

"And help me finish my book. And bake all day." Quinn watched Rachel, eyes dancing and waiting for a reaction. "You and James and baby can spend all day making me treats. Because I deserve them. You can even deliver-"

"Shut up." Rachel laughed, trying to plaster a hand over Quinn's mouth.

"Deliver them to me for lunch." Quinn finished, squirming away. She grinned successfully.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Maybe I'll start my memoir." she mused, settling back against her wife's chest.

Quinn hummed. "What will you call it?"

"Rachel Barbra Berry. A life…" Rachel trailed off, frowning.

Maybe she'd spend her two years coming up with the perfect title for her autobiography. Re-reading Barbra's _A Passion for Design_, teaching dance to her toddler, baking for Quinn. It all sounded more than pleasant.

"On stage?" Quinn offered to finish the sentence. She laughed to herself. "A life in hell? A life as the wife of stunning, brilliant Quinn Fabray?"

"You are just full of it tonight." Rachel chuckled, a little surprised.

Quinn watched her, eyes bright. "Are you comfortable?"

"I actually am, baby."

"That's too bad." Quinn shook her head sadly. "I think I'm going to get up and walk around for a bit."

Rachel curled her fists into Quinn's t-shirt. "I'm sure you are."

"I don't lie, Rachel."

Rachel met her animated eyes. "But you play games. I know you're not getting up."

Quinn gazed back at her curiously, amused. She wrapped her arms around Rachel's back and held her there. "How do you know that?"

"Just because you love me." Rachel said confidently.

Quinn stared.

"And because I'm tired and sick, but I'm comfortable for once. And you may not be, but you're not going to get up right now because you wouldn't do that to me." Rachel smiled smugly. "Right?"

"That's…" Quinn scoffed, cheeks turning pink. She nodded shortly.

"And I love you too."

Quinn tipped her head up to catch Rachel's lips. "You're just insufferable." She murmured.

Rachel kissed her jaw, and then her cheeks and her lips again. She grinned. "I know. Our night is just _ruined_."


	34. Chapter 34

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 34: We Might've Started Singing Just a Little Soon**

"Put the needle down, Rachel!" Quinn shouted from the kitchen.

Rachel scoffed to herself and leaned lower over her project, muttering unintelligibly. She'd been at it for five hours, and there was no way she was quitting now. Her fingers ached and bled, which would've been alarming if she'd been in her right mind, and her head throbbed and she couldn't seem to stop sweating.

She'd lost all control of the Superman costume she was supposed to be sewing for James about four hours ago, and was now left with rumpled swaths of red and blue fabric haphazardly sewn together with green thread and sticking to the table.

"Jesus, mother of-." Rachel mumbled to herself with another stab to her thumb.

Her fingers were finally turning white and going numb, and she smiled ridiculously when she saw that this prick brought no blood. She kept up her grumbling, mostly stream of consciousness strung together with profanity, and ripped apart two pieces of blue cloth that she'd accidentally glued to the coffee table.

Quinn ducked to see out of the breakfast bar, eyes narrowed. "Rachel." She warned.

"Darling."

"Put the needle down."

"I can fix it!" Rachel promised, nearly manic. "It's not so bad. It's like a minor costume repair. I do those all the time."

She'd been spouting the same line all day. Honestly, she'd never done a minor costume repair in her life because she was the _star_ of her shows, but they seemed easy enough. A needle, a little thread, a tomato shaped pin cushion. Of course her next step was to fabricate an entire Halloween costume for her son from scratch _without_ a sewing machine.

Quinn stormed out of the kitchen with a plate of tuna and a jar of peanut butter on a tray. She dropped them onto the coffee table and leaned over to pry the needle and fabric out of Rachel's hands.

"No, wait, Quinn-I'm-it's almost done." Rachel protested, snatching at her wife's arm.

"You need to take a break." Quinn frowned at the mess Rachel had made of the costume. She held it up and tipped her head, and Rachel was almost pleased because at least she could recognize two clearly defined sleeves.

Or maybe those were for the legs? Rachel wasn't worried. She could put either James's arms or his legs in those holes and he couldn't stop her.

Rachel blinked rapidly and rubbed at her bleary eyes. "It's almost finished, bear." She implored. "Just let me finish it."

She could cry, use all of her pet names, rub all up on Quinn or kiss her all over. She was deciding which strategy to use when Quinn pointed at the plate of food.

"Eat your smelly fish." Quinn instructed sternly.

Rachel pursed her lips and crossed her arms petulantly. Quinn frowned at the movement and seized one of her abnormally white, clammy hands, expression fading to concern. Rachel watched her check each finger, brow furrowed, before Quinn switched to the other hand and did the same.

"You're a moron, little bear." She said softly.

Rachel scoffed and attempted to yank her hands away, but Quinn managed to hold on and kiss each of her palms.

"If you'd just let me finish the costume…" Rachel muttered.

Quinn straightened up, mostly amused. She smiled indulgently. "Then you'd have even more tiny little holes in your tiny little fingers."

Rachel scoffed again. She eyed the tuna and peanut butter but refused to ask her wife to pass it to her.

Quinn sat on the coffee table and handed the tray to Rachel, mindful of her growing bump. Rachel dove right into the tuna. Quinn's grimace at the smell was particularly satisfying.

"Fine. You know what, _you_ make the costume." Rachel proclaimed, mouth full. She waved her fork around dramatically. "I'm done with it."

"Baby, we'll just buy-"

"Why even get a costume at all?" Rachel continued shrilly. "Maybe we'll just skip Halloween this year. Or tie a blanket around his neck and call it a cape."

Quinn rolled her eyes and covered her nose. Only two foods in the world could make her nauseous, and they were tuna and corned beef. Rachel had been craving tuna for three weeks. She thought about asking for corned beef right now just to mess with her wife.

"Don't you roll your eyes at me! You're the one-"

"You're _hurting_ yourself, Rachel." Quinn interjected, annoyed. "Just…"

Honestly, if Quinn's next words were "calm down," Rachel was prepped to fly off the couch in a fit of irrational rage.

"Eat your smelly food. I put olive oil on it like you like."

Rachel unclenched. She nodded shortly and ate her tuna. Quinn sighed and traced Rachel's knees with her fingers. It was admittedly soothing. Rachel bit into a chunk of onion and realized that Quinn had spent half an hour combining some of her least favorite foods to make Rachel's dinner.

"Thanks, bear." Rachel said stiffly, quietly.

Quinn smiled at her. Her phone rang, and she tipped forward off the coffee table to pull it out of her back pocket. She settled on the couch next to Rachel and batted a forkful of tuna away so forcefully that it fell to the floor for Cornelius.

"Hey, Santana." Quinn answered while Rachel shoved Cornelius and Cloud away with her feet. She caught Cornelius in the face, and he sat down with such a sullen expression that Rachel felt bad and offered him another bite of tuna.

"Right now?" Quinn questioned, eyes wide.

Rachel glanced at her and reached for the jar of peanut butter. "What? What?" Rachel mouthed.

Quinn covered her nose and turned Rachel's chin to face away from her. "In the _bathtub_?" she asked a moment later.

Rachel put all of her food down, intrigued. She prodded Quinn's ribs and tugged on the wispy blonde hair at the back of Quinn's neck. "Tell me." She whispered.

"Okay, we'll be-we'll be there soon." Quinn assured, smiling widely at Rachel. "And I'm sure someone will catch Flappy. I don't think-I don't think a domestic duck would fly south unless it's become feral."

Rachel narrowed her eyes. She pressed her head against the phone to listen right as Quinn hung up.

Quinn grasped Rachel's chin again and gently turned her face away. Rachel rolled her eyes and closed her mouth to stop herself from breathing on her wife, only mildly offended. Quinn sloppily kissed her cheek and stood up, holding a hand out for Rachel.

"Let's wake-we need to-we need to wake Jay up and head to the hospital." Quinn stuttered excitedly, backing clumsily into the coffee table.

Rachel's eyes widened.

"Britt's having the baby."

~ooooooooooo~

Rachel paced around the waiting room while Quinn sat on the floor near the toy box playing with a squealing James. Santana had been sporadically bursting through the swinging doors with declarations of "She's pushing!" and "We can see the head!"

And then a doctor strode calmly through the doors and informed Rachel and Quinn that their friend had passed out, but would be perfectly alright, and a baby boy had been delivered. That had been twenty minutes ago. Rachel did the math and determined that labor had only lasted about five hours for Brittany, which was incredibly short for a first time mother, and Rachel was incredibly jealous.

She hadn't even had her baby yet, but she already knew her little girl would drag the event out to make it as hellish and unbearable and long as possible. Rachel groaned to herself and completed another circle of the waiting room.

"Mama." James called, eyeing her calmly from the floor.

He was still in his footsie pajamas, paired with a miniature denim jacket, and his fluffy blonde hair was a mess from where he'd been sleeping on it. Rachel crossed the room and he stared up at her seriously.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

Rachel stood behind Quinn and dragged her fingers through her wife's loose hair. Quinn leaned back into her legs without looking up.

"Cow." James announced, holding up a plastic Holstein.

Rachel smiled warmly. "Yes, that's a cow, baby."

Quinn tipped her head back to look up at Rachel. "No, he wants you to make the noise." She squeezed Rachel's feet through her boots. "He thinks you do it best."

"_Really_?" Rachel gave an exaggerated gasp and began absently tying Quinn's hair into uneven braids. She leaned forward and grinned at James. "I make better cow sounds than mommy?"

James nodded stoically, still holding out the cow. One of his eyebrows may have risen.

Quinn shook her head. "Nobody makes better cow sounds than mommy."

"Hush mommy." Rachel tugged on Quinn's hair. "Jay knows what he's talking about."

James shook the cow around, unamused with Rachel's dilly-dallying. Rachel cleared her throat and "mooed" loudly. She did it without opening her mouth, and Quinn snorted quietly and looked up again to see her face. James dropped his solemn expression and shrieked with laughter, deep belly laughter that caused Rachel's sound effects to falter.

"Hey, jollies, knock it off."

Rachel turned at the sound of her friend's voice. Santana stood in the doorway with a wide smile, despite her tone. She looked like she'd just run a marathon. And then spilled something brown and orange down herself and run another marathon. Rachel grimaced.

Quinn stood up immediately, James on her hip.

"You seem sort of pale, Santana." She remarked with a grin.

A harrowing look passed over Santana's face. Terror and distress and nausea. Santana glanced behind her, presumably to where the delivery room was. She turned back around and narrowed her eyes at Quinn, whose smile faltered.

"You just wait, sunshine." She said lowly. James jammed the plastic cow painfully into Quinn's cheek and Santana's smile re-emerged. "You just wait."

"What-wait for what?" Rachel wondered, frightened.

Quinn held James's arm away from her face. "I've observed elephant and rhinoceros parturition." She said proudly. "I'm not going to pass out."

Rachel frowned. "Don't compare me to an elephant." She spoke meekly, growing more afraid because _yes_, she'd witnessed a birth before, but that was over a year ago and she was sure that most of the horrors had been blocked from her mind.

Santana was examining her shirt, obviously answering a question for Quinn.

"I don't know." She gazed at the orange and brown stain with interest. "Maybe soup. Or pumpkin. Bodily fluids."

Rachel actually covered her mouth with her hand. She took several deep breaths while Santana chuckled, and Quinn rubbed a soothing hand over her back.

"Hey mama." James shoved his plastic cow in Rachel's face and she accepted it gratefully.

Quinn watched Rachel as they followed Santana back to Brittany's room. Rachel was genuinely frightened about what would happen to her during the birthing process. She'd heard stories. What terrible things could possibly be going down that would make _Santana_ pass out?

"We'll be fine, baby." Quinn assured quietly, catching Rachel's hand.

James absently hummed his agreement.

Rachel's hips were not wide enough for a baby's head to pass through. There was no way. Where would her small body even find the strength to expel another human?

"Rachel, I promise." Quinn continued softly, guiding Rachel around a few carts in the hallway. Rachel stared ahead, wide-eyed. "It's a natural process. Your body will know what to do."

Something would rupture. It was bound to. Rupture and splatter and spew. And it would last at least forty-eight hours, because that was just the direction this pregnancy was going.

"Baby…" Quinn trailed off, watching with concern as Rachel followed Santana into Brittany's room.

A hushed "There they are!" came from the bed, and Rachel's eyes welled up at the sight of a flushed, exhausted Brittany and her baby boy. James made a curious humming noise at the back of his throat, and it finally struck Rachel that _after_ labor she'd have this beautiful, brand new prize to share with her wife. There was a point to it all.

Santana crossed the room and kissed the top of Brittany's head and then settled on the bed.

"Rachel, Quinn, Jon Bon, this is Marcus." Brittany introduced softly. She looked down at the newborn's face. "Marcus, this is Rachel, Quinn, and your new best friend James."

"War-like." Quinn remarked, warily eyeing Santana. "I'm not surprised."

Santana shrugged. "Either that or Nacho Fosco. We went with war."

Rachel bit her lip and ran a hand over her bump. Marcus was tiny and pink, with darker skin and a dash of black hair. She could tell he'd look just like Santana, and she laughed to herself at the thought.

"How was it?" Quinn whispered to Brittany. "It was short, right?"

Her gaze dropped and she spoke quietly, to nobody in particular. "Like bears. They only take a few hours."

Brittany smiled softly up at them all. Santana brushed the hair out of her eyes.

"Sometimes even less." Quinn murmured, bouncing a sleepy James on her hip. She met Rachel's amused gaze. "Compared to adult body weight, grizzly bears have-they have the smallest neonates out of all placental mammals. So parturition's-it's relatively easy."

"Bear." Rachel murmured, squeezing Quinn's hand before she could get carried away.

Brittany and Santana were too engrossed in their baby to even notice.

"It was great. Everything's great." Brittany answered distractedly, playing with Marcus's fingers.

Quinn hugged James closer and kissed his head. Rachel decided that hours of spewing and splattering would be worth it to have this again.

~oooooooooooo~

Rachel's last show was in November, right before Thanksgiving, when the audience was wrapped in wool blankets and scarves and the theatre Rachel called home was a warm haven. She was six months pregnant, swelling up and slowing down. Dolly was not pregnant, and Rachel's bump was becoming impossible to conceal, so it was natural that she'd take her leave.

Every night Rachel sang like she'd never be on stage again. This performance was no different, except for the tears and hugs from cast and crew, her altered center of gravity, and her large mob of friends and family in the audience.

Rachel started crying halfway through the reprise of "Hello, Dolly."

She had her Tony. Maybe there was a chance she'd never be on a stage like this again. Maybe she'd be able to switch her focus to the "EGO" of "EGOT." Rachel pushed through the finale, singing through her tears and trying not to fall over. At curtain call, the cast members ran out one by one. Rachel always followed the actors who played Horace and Cornelius, her friends, and _always_ received the most applause.

Tonight was no different. Rachel was floored by the wall of sound that greeted her on stage. She was openly crying now, and she linked arms with her co-stars for their bow. She realized that somebody had handed her a microphone at some point.

"Thank you for coming to our show." Rachel managed, unnaturally high-pitched. "Thank you for welcoming me and letting me sing for you every night."

She took a deep, shuddering breath and blinked to clear her vision. The audience only clapped louder with her words. Quinn was in the front row of course, applauding fiercely, with Puck and Santana hollering next to her. Kurt and Blaine were there with Simba, along with Artie, Brittany, Tina, and Tom.

"Thank you so much!" Rachel exclaimed after another bow. "All of you. This-this beautiful cast and crew, my friends and my family." Rachel swallowed thickly. "My wife."

She gave a watery laugh. "God, I can't stop crying."

That incited another wave of applause. Rachel gave a final wave, blew a kiss, and followed the rest of her cast backstage. She blindly hugged every warm body she came in contact with. Patrick, the microphone guy who'd saved her once when her batteries had fallen out on stage. Erica, the costume director who'd been gradually letting out Rachel's dresses over the past six months. _Erica_ could probably construct a Superman costume.

During one of her hugs, Rachel realized that her face was buried in soft, blonde hair. It was warm and familiar, and Quinn kissed her cheek when she started crying again.

"I can't stop crying." Rachel whined, clinging to Quinn's scarf.

Quinn chuckled lightly. "Oh, baby." She kissed Rachel's ear. "I'm so proud of you."

"Pull yourself together, woman." Puck joked, leading their pack of friends. Rachel stepped back from Quinn, not far, and Quinn kept hold of her hand and played with her fingers. Rachel wiped hopelessly at her eyes.

"Congratulations, Rachel."

She was handed a bouquet of colorful flowers by Tom and several balloons by Brittany. Rachel held them all with her free hand. She glanced down when Simba tugged on her dress and graciously accepted the stuffed bear and package of jellybeans he was eagerly offering.

"Auntie Quinn told me your favorite flavors." He explained proudly.

Kurt nodded sagely. "Do you know how _expensive_ specialty jellybeans are, Rachel?" He shook his head in disbelief. "_Honestly_…"

Rachel laughed, but tuned Kurt out because she felt Quinn slip a ringer onto her finger. She glanced suspiciously up at her wife, who was speaking nonchalantly with Brittany about Marcus, and then at the hand which had finally been set free. Rachel gasped in surprise. There was definitely a new ring on her finger. It was simple and silver, with a sparkling, round-cut diamond surrounded by a teardrop of black and white diamonds.

Rachel hugged all of her goodies to her, fully expecting the balloons to end up at the ceiling, and stared wide-eyed at her finger.

"I tried-I wanted one that would stand out from your other ones." Quinn explained quietly, almost drowned out by Santana's proclamation of "Girl got that bling!"

"And James picked it out." Quinn added.

Rachel choked a laugh. She looked up and smiled fondly at Quinn. "James did not pick this out, you liar."

Quinn's eyebrow lifted. She tapped Rachel's lips with her finger.

"Show us, Rachel!" Tina requested, crowding forward with Brittany and Kurt climbing over her shoulders. Kurt seized Rachel's wrist and held it up so that everybody could see, and Quinn took some of the gifts from Rachel's arms before she could drop them all in her excitement.

"I love it, Quinn." Rachel assured her while their friends fawned over her ring.

Quinn flushed, pleased.

Artie fought his way through the fray and rolled up with a book on his lap, which he presented to Rachel with a smile. "We made you a scrapbook."

Rachel's mouth fell open again. A _scrapbook_. All the years of being mocked for her love of scrapbooking came rushing back. She had approximately fourteen at the moment: one for every three years of her life, one for Quinn's childhood pictures, and two for James.

"It has _Funny Girl_ and _Hello, Dolly_, mostly behind the scenes pictures, and there's space for more shows or whatever you decide to do next." Artie explained.

"Oh, my…" Rachel murmured, hands shaking. She flipped to the first page and smiled immediately. There she was holding a puppy version of Barnaby, tipping back in the make-up chair in her dressing room and grinning widely at the camera. She was in full Fanny Brice costume.

She actually remembered sneaking Barnaby into the building on that occasion because he'd destroyed her DVD player the day before and she didn't trust him at home.

It was ten years ago. Quinn "awwed" softly and Puck shoved his way closer to see. Blaine lifted Simba, and Tina and Brittany and Santana all gathered around.

Tom smiled warmly at Rachel. "Look how fluffy Barnes is."

"Whoa, look at your eyebrows." Santana remarked. "Are those make-up? Because they are wild as-"

Quinn's glare cut her off. Santana didn't seem particularly threatened, smiling innocently.

"You look so young." Kurt observed, glancing between the picture and Rachel.

Quinn pulled Rachel closer, offended on her behalf. Really, it was only ten years. It was a girlfriend becoming a wife becoming a mother, a move to California and back, eight pets, three houses, two Broadway shows, a baby boy, and a girl on the way.

"Thank you guys." Rachel murmured, gazing at her own face.

She'd been a couple years out of college then. Ten years later, she'd accomplished every goal she'd set.

~ooooooooooo~

Rachel's due date came and went. Her sanity and civility went right along with it. Thankfully, at forty-two weeks pregnant, her body seemed to reach critical mass.

Her breasts had grown to Herculean proportions. She tossed and turned all night, when she wasn't rushing to the bathroom, and if she _did_ fall asleep she'd wake up with numb fingers or spasming feet, the strangest things. With the way things were heading, she wouldn't be surprised to wake up with a missing limb. Maybe one morning she'd find that her unborn child had turned her body purple during the night.

Rachel's ankles were barely discernible, despite them being elevated literally twenty-four hours a day. She honestly couldn't bring herself to do much more than roll around in bed and complain from the couch all day.

"She'll come soon, baby." Quinn assured every time Rachel demanded something from her.

Food, a pillow, the television remote, something to scream at, sex to speed the damn process along. Rachel had made herself sick a week after her due date by eating numerous bowls of spicy chili to incite labor. And then she'd cried pathetically in Quinn's arms while she vomited fire all night.

She intimately got to know her animals. She learned that Jelly would steal food from the dogs' bowls about four hours after breakfast every day, and Charizard's breathing was actually quiet if he slept upside down on the hardwood in the corner of the living room. Barnaby had taken to sleeping near Rachel, especially if she was in a particularly grumpy mood.

It was late February when Rachel woke up in the middle of the night. Her eyes snapped open abruptly, and she realized she was in the midst of some kind of terrible cramp starting in her back and radiating to her stomach. She groaned loudly, a sudden rumble in the stillness of the dark room, and rubbed her at her sides.

Quinn stirred next to her. "'Kay, baby?" she slurred, attempting to prop up onto her elbow.

Rachel stared up into the dark, moaning internally. It was like a charley horse in her abdomen. "No." she managed tightly.

Quinn was silent.

Rachel turned to look at her, but couldn't read her wife's expression in the dark. She was probably half asleep because Quinn was _always_ half asleep.

"Quinn, bear, wake- _shit_." Rachel struggled, gripping at her belly. She ground her teeth together. "Wake up. We need to go to the hospital."

There was another beat of silence.

"You-" Quinn shifted rapidly. She rolled to turn on the light, and then sat on her knees and loomed over Rachel, blinking in the sudden brightness. "Is-has your water broken? How do you feel?"

Like her stomach was tightening into a tiny little ball. Rachel squeezed Quinn's forearm. "Like I need to go to the hospital."

Quinn nodded quickly, bouncing her messy hair around. Her eyes shone with concern and she kissed Rachel's forehead and scrambled off the bed. Rachel was in sweats and a hoody, despite the heat in the apartment, because her body had apparently lost its ability to thermoregulate. Quinn changed quickly into jeans and a sweatshirt. She rushed out of the room and came back with a sleepy, soon-to-be grumpy James on her hip and Rachel's pre-packed back slung over her shoulder.

Barnaby sat next to the bed on Rachel's side, waiting patiently, wide awake.

"Can you sit up, baby?" Quinn asked, breathless.

It was either that or lie in bed and wait for her uterus to explode. Rachel nodded and clawed her way into a sitting position. Quinn helped her slip on some shoes, and Rachel was halfway standing up when she felt a small gush of water run down her legs.

"Quinn, wipe-wipe that." She pointed behind her as she and Quinn, with James on Quinn's hip, staggered towards the door. "Don't let it-it'll ruin the hardwood."

Quinn glanced back, shaking her head. She ushered the dogs out of the room and shut the bedroom door, snatched the keys from the kitchen counter, and hitched James up higher onto her hip.

"Oh my-_holy mother of_-" Rachel bit into her lip at the pain radiating from her back. She pressed her face into Quinn's shoulder and focused on not tumbling down the stairs. Quinn's arm tightened around her.

"You're okay, baby." Quinn assured smoothly. She wrapped a scarf around Rachel's neck at the base of the stairs.

"Why is the-oh _God_," Rachel scrunched up her face in the freezing air. Something was spasming again. Her back? Her feet? James started crying. "Why is the car always…miles away?"

Quinn didn't bother answering. They bumbled slowly along the sidewalk, hunched against the cold, probably waking all of their neighbors with James's cries.

"Here we go, honey." Quinn announced when they'd walked the block to Rachel's car. Quinn was breathing heavily and flushed, supporting the weight of Rachel, James, a small duffel bag, and her own purse.

She deposited Rachel in the front seat, James in his car seat, and jammed her finger climbing into the driver's seat. Frankly, Rachel was surprised it wasn't snowing. Blizzarding. Thankfully her dear, sweet unborn child had no control of the weather.

The cramping was only getting worse. Their baby girl was now slamming into Rachel's uterus with a sledgehammer, maybe a hot fire poker. Rachel groaned shamelessly and rocked back and forth in her seat.

"Baby, sit still. Sit still." Quinn entreated, worried. She reached over and squeezed Rachel's thigh.

Rachel knocked her head against the window at each stoplight. "This was a terrible, terrible idea." She muttered to nobody in particular. "We already have one. Why do we need- _ugh_, oh God-why do we need two? Quinn, let's just go back to bed. I don't want to do this anymore."

Quinn pulled up to the hospital and smiled softly at her. "Too late for that, baby."

Rachel was put in a wheelchair as soon as she stepped through the hospital doors. James was taken to childcare and Rachel and Quinn were situated in a sunny, yellow delivery room.

"Quinn, it's crawling out of my back." Rachel whined ridiculously.

Alarmed, Quinn looked at the nurse filling a hot water bottle.

"Back pain's very common, Mrs. Berry." The nurse informed warmly. She handed the water bottle to Quinn, who placed it at the small of Rachel's back. "You should do whatever makes you comfortable. Maybe get up and walk around, switch to a cold compress, try kneeling or getting on all fours."

Rachel stared at this woman.

"It's-you can stay in bed, baby. Just lie there." Quinn said quickly, quietly, before Rachel could go off on the nurse.

Rachel was too hot and far too distressed for this. It didn't feel normal or natural at all. Quinn tied Rachel's hair back and then sat down on the edge of the bed and squeezed her hand.

"Just take it out now." Rachel requested hopefully. She nodded to herself. "It'll save time. Let's just-yeah, let's do that." She rolled onto her side, staring pleadingly at her wife.

Quinn looked pained, like it was killing her not to say _yes_, that was a fabulous idea and Rachel would be pain-free in no time. She leaned closer to Rachel, just inches away. "Baby, you are okay." She said slowly, hazel eyes shining. "You will be okay. I promise. Later today, when the sun's up, we'll have a beautiful baby girl."

Rachel wasn't so sure it was a child coming out of her. Clawing its way out of her back.

"Talk to me, bear." Rachel requested, holding desperately to Quinn's hand. She needed something to focus on that wasn't what was about to happen to her poor, small body.

Quinn tipped forward and kissed her softly. "Of course."

She started by telling Rachel about the latest chapter she'd finished for her book. She talked about the differences between zebras and horses, between gelato and ice cream, and sang "Toot sweets" from _Chitty Chitty Bang Bang_. And then she talked about Dick van Dyke, and how Rachel would make a fabulous Mary Poppins, and how the zoo would be getting twelve new penguins within a year.

Quinn had never talked so much in her life. Rachel knew she wasn't a talker, so she appreciated it that much more. There was never a lull, never a chance for Rachel to wail about her cramps, which had morphed into full-on contractions.

And then six hours in, Rachel learned she was only four centimeters dilated, and she nearly started bawling into her pillow. The sun had come up, the contractions had strengthened, Quinn looked like a disheveled bum, and the baby hadn't budged.

Naturally, Quinn kept talking. She fed Rachel ice and water, almost forcibly, held her hand, and refilled her hot water bottle. She created a game, a lyric game where she'd sing the first half of a lyric from her iPod and Rachel would finish it.

Even six hours into the worst experience of her life, Rachel had perfect pitch.

Time passed and nurses flitted in and out, timing Rachel's contractions and checking her vitals. Rachel tested a few useless breathing exercises and Quinn called their friends, who popped up around lunch time, ten hours into the whole ordeal, to offer their support.

Rachel refused to let anybody in the room though, so Quinn greeted them outside and promised to keep them updated.

"Santana got James out of childcare." She told Rachel. "So he's with family. Just focus on this, baby."

The sun set, and Rachel was still in labor after twenty-two hours. The doctor described it as "prolonged latent labor." Rachel honestly did not care what the hell its name was. She needed this child out, and she was pushing as soon as she heard that she was dilated enough. Her vision was blurry, and she was nauseous and so sweaty it was like she'd been swimming.

She imagined those movies where a character has to repeat one day over and over again. Thinking about doing that with this day was driving her into an irrational panic.

Rachel had nearly dragged Quinn onto the bed, with her hands in a vice grip. Quinn kissed her head repeatedly, whispering encouraging words and nonsense and constantly reminding Rachel that she wasn't alone. Rachel grunted painfully. She felt dizzy.

Quinn's eyes were bloodshot and her hair was loose, and Rachel wasn't sure she'd eaten all day.

"Baby, they're giving you oxytocin to help strengthen the contractions, okay?" Quinn murmured, pushing Rachel's hair back.

Rachel cried openly. "Stren-_strengthen_ them? They're already-"

"They're coming at the right time, but they're really weak." Quinn tried to explain. "Do you trust me?"

Rachel nodded helplessly.

"Baby, I'm here." Quinn whispered, and Rachel could feel her wife's breath on her face. "I'm here. Whatever happens, you're okay. I promise. I love you so much."

When Rachel thought the cutting pain in her back couldn't get any worse, it was split wide open.

"That's it. Push, Rachel." The doctor instructed loudly. "Just one more."

"Let's go, baby." Quinn urged, ignoring the crushing damage Rachel was doing to her hand. "You're doing so well."

Rachel gave a final push, silent in its intensity. For a moment she thought she'd gone deaf, ruptured something, like a blanket had been thrown over the room. And then she recognized a small uproar of noise, excitement, maybe a cry. A baby girl. She could feel soft hands on her forehead and her cheeks, kissing her, saying her name.

And then the noise faded abruptly. The lights went out, and Rachel could finally sleep.


	35. Chapter 35

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 35: Nothing Never Ends**

**Age 10**

Quinn spent her birthday exploring the backyard of Aunt Lisa's house. She'd only lived there for a few weeks, but she'd already deemed the garden much more fun than the cold, still interior. She liked to climb and dig and hide—pretend she was an explorer or archaeologist or Tarzan. Spring had only just broken, and Quinn's long-sleeved purple t-shirt wasn't really sufficient to fight the chill.

She refused to go back inside though, where there was nothing to do except newspaper word jumbles and mindless television.

Quinn crouched near a tree at the back fence of the yard and smiled to herself. She brushed the tangled, blonde hair out of her eyes before carefully reaching out to pick up a small frog. He hopped away at the first touch of her finger, and she sighed and tipped backwards to sit fully in the dirt. There had to be more frogs around. For a moment, she thought about running back inside to grab her copy of _The Wind in the Willows_, just to read about Mr. Toad again.

She dug her small fingers into the dirt and hummed absently. Mr. Toad was rich, so he was able to explore every passing fancy, every obsession of his, from boating to motorcars. If Quinn had that power—maybe she would one day; she was only ten, after all—she'd visit the great Kodiak bears she'd read about in Alaska.

She'd be up close with a mighty tiger's teeth, with a lumbering polar bear's paw, and she'd be free to travel and bake and have her own puppy, like Apple next door.

Maybe one day.

Quinn stared at a lizard scuttling around the roots of the tree. She remembered that Mr. Toad had friends—Badger, Rat and Mole—to help him along. That was another difference between them. She puffed out her cheeks and hummed an old tune, wondering if she'd be lucky enough to have cake today.

"Quinn!"

The voice was exasperated, coming from the sliding glass door. Quinn stood up quickly and brushed the dirt off her jeans.

"What are you doing out here?" Lisa asked, stalking to the edge of the patio, hands on her hips. She was decorous, with her blonde hair in a neat bun and a proper floral skirt that ended just below her knees.

Quinn jammed her hands in her pockets to hide the dirt under her nails.

"Just exploring." She said quickly, hurrying towards her aunt.

Lisa dropped her hands from her hips and motioned for Quinn to follow her back inside. "We're going out."

Quinn ignored the familiar swelling of anxiety she felt at those words. "Where?"

Lisa gestured for Quinn to take off her muddy shoes and then eyed her critically. "Anywhere that will keep you from crawling around in the dirt on your birthday, Quinn."

Quinn struggled wordlessly with a knot in her laces.

"Have you even spoken to anybody this week? Your classmates?" Lisa pressed, eyebrow raised, before shaking her head. "That's not normal. It's not normal at all."

Quinn felt her cheeks flush.

"I want you outside in the real world." Lisa continued sharply, looking down at her. "You're a ten year old girl. You should be social or you'll never have friends."

Quinn gave up picking at the knot and just pried off her tied shoe. She swallowed thickly and gazed at the bright blue pumps Lisa had on her feet.

Lisa threw up her hands after a moment of silence, laughing humorlessly. "Even now, you won't say anything! There has to be something wrong with-"

"Sorry." Quinn said abruptly. "I'm…It's-it's not-" She shook her hair around because she just could not think of anything to say. The words wouldn't come.

It was all blurred pictures and toads and blue shoes.

"Where-where are we going?" she managed, as politely as possible because she could feel Lisa's gaze boring into her.

"We'll go shopping. Is there anybody you'd like to invite?"

Quinn shook her head and whispered, "No, thank you."

Her eyes burned when Lisa nodded, unsurprised, and left her to get ready.

~ooooooooooooo~

**Present**

It was a nightmare. A literal, waking, walking nightmare. Rachel was wheeled away moments after losing consciousness, the baby was passed off in the opposite direction, and Quinn was shuttled out to the waiting room with one of the nurses trying ineffectively to explain what was going on.

It was a jumble in Quinn's head, stuck on the breath she couldn't seem to catch and the half-moon nail marks Rachel had left in her forearm. She sat next to Kurt in the plastic waiting room chairs—hot and anxious and nauseous—as the nurse talked about "surgical extraction of the placenta" and "excessive bleeding."

Quinn recognized the words. She'd delivered elephant calves, bovine calves, foals, wolf pups, regular pups. She'd stitched up many prolapsed uteri without a second thought.

But this was _Rachel,_ and Quinn was lost, and she watched the nurse walk back through the doors while Kurt rubbed her shoulder and told her to focus and breathe. Santana sat on Quinn's other side, struggling to tie back her blonde hair while Quinn fidgeted.

"She'll be fine, Quinn. She'll be just fine." Kurt murmured.

Blaine nodded quickly, struggling with the vending machine in the corner of the room. "The nurse was very optimistic."

Quinn blew shortly out of her nose. Optimism meant nothing. Statistics meant nothing. She groaned and dropped her head into her hands. Santana gave up trying to pull back her hair and settled for tucking it messily behind Quinn's ears.

"She was having such a hard time." Quinn remarked, muffled and hoarse.

Kurt rubbed her back soothingly.

"She'll be fine." Santana insisted. She pried Quinn's fingers away from her face and squeezed to hold them still. "You know Berry. You can't keep her down. Like a Furby."

Quinn coughed raggedly. She twisted in her seat and breathed shallowly, and Kurt shared a worried glance with Santana. Every blink flashed a new picture of Rachel before Quinn's eyes.

In the morning, sleepy and mumbly, all dark, tangled hair and warm cheeks and soft smiles. Or a few weeks ago, dancing around the kitchen with a spatula and loudly singing a made-up song about cantaloupe and watermelon to James. Huffy and annoyed and tired after a particularly long day, when she'd cross her arms and flip her hair and roll her eyes, and then curl up to Quinn in the middle of the night and tug on her ears and whisper an apology.

Quinn whined lowly, crumbling from the inside out. She traced the lines in the tiled floor to keep herself from fading out completely.

"I read about a zonkey today!" Kurt proclaimed abruptly, eyes wide and a little desperate.

Brittany nodded sagely, strolling back into the room with Puck at her side and James on her hip—all three looked unsettled and exhausted.

"A zebra donkey." Brittany remarked. "Rachel would like them. They're adorable."

"Is there one around here? I want to see one too." Blaine mused. He stepped in front of Quinn and held out his offering of vending machine snacks—Kit-Kat, Cheetos, M & Ms, pretzels, and a granola bar.

Quinn shook her head slightly, but Kurt took the M & Ms and dumped them into a napkin in his hand, sending several bouncing brightly across the plain floor.

"So you can pick some out if you like." Kurt explained softly. "You should eat."

"Zebroids are sterile." Quinn muttered roughly.

Kurt blinked at her, and then smiled slightly.

Quinn ran through them all in her mind—zonkey, zony, zorse, zebrule, and hinny. She saw them all, and she stared hard at the floor tiles and listened critically to the light conversation.

"So they can't breed." Santana shrugged. "Probably for the best."

Quinn hummed and nodded. A nurse came through the door at that point and panic gripped Quinn's chest, hot and anxious. She sat up straight, breathing staggered, and dug her nails into her knees. She barely registered Santana's soothing hands on her shoulders.

The nurse smiled warmly. "Would you like to come meet your daughter?"

Quinn faltered. Rachel had been first on her mind. _Rachel._ Her mouth dropped open, but she said nothing, and Santana squeezed her sweaty hand.

"We love you, Quinn. We're here with you." She reminded gently.

Quinn swallowed thickly—she felt like she couldn't process anything by herself—nodded, and stood to follow after the nurse with Kurt and Santana.

~oooooooooooo~

**Age 13**

Quinn balled her hands up in her dress pockets and tried to stand still. She'd made it through her presentation—talking far too quickly, she knew—about the World War II invasion of North Africa, and was now supposed to accept questions. Her eyes scanned the small class, lips pressed together.

There was only one student with his hand up, and Quinn smiled slightly and pointed to him.

"Why was it called Operation Torch?" he queried.

Quinn rocked on the balls of her feet. She fixed her eyes thoughtfully on a spot at the back of the classroom. "It's-it doesn't-they don't-"

She shook her head and cut herself off to try again. Her classmates' faces weren't hard or judgmental. They were mostly bored, maybe intent, but Quinn couldn't seem to ever get her words out smoothly.

"It's-it was originally called Operation Gymnast." She said. She pulled a hand from her pocket to drag the long hair out of her eyes. "The name doesn't really-it doesn't mean anything. But some say the landing area was known as torch."

Quinn swallowed. The boy who'd asked the question nodded, satisfied with that answer, and Quinn headed back to her seat.

"Thank you, Quinn. See me after class, please." Her history teacher called over the light, routine applause.

Quinn settled in her chair. Already her breathing was evening out, her heart rate was slowing. She kept her clammy hands in her pockets and basked in relief.

"Quinn."

Quinn twisted slightly to see the girl sitting behind her—Maddie Hays, dark-haired, bright-eyed, and incredibly kind. She was smiling warmly, and Quinn flushed like she always did when Maddie spoke to her.

"Good job. I liked your presentation."

Quinn smiled and quietly said, "Thank you."

After class, she stood in front of Mr. Wilson's large, wooden desk, and tugged absently on her backpack straps until the classroom was empty. Mr. Wilson, a middle-aged, self-proclaimed "go-getter" with no hair, watched her from behind his glasses. He was generally a well-meaning teacher, but he seemed to get a lot of things wrong.

Quinn would never tell him she thought he was an idiot.

He spun slightly in his chair and tipped his head. "Do you know what you'd like to do when you're older, Quinn? What you want to be when you grow up?"

Quinn shifted on her feet and glanced towards the door. "Not…really." She hesitated. "I like-maybe some-something with animals or books."

Mr. Wilson nodded indulgently. "That's good. You don't need to know right now what you want to do with the rest of your life."

Quinn stared uncertainly at the bicycles on his tie.

"What you _do_ need to do is lose that stutter."

Quinn blinked, surprised.

"When you get older, it'll be seen as unprofessional, Quinn, a handicap, and you need to start working on it now." Mr. Wilson observed her.

Quinn glanced at the door again and wished she were anywhere else.

Her teacher snapped his fingers. "And you need to look me in the eyes, because you're being rude."

Quinn's face flushed as she met his amused gaze. Telling him he was a dumbass would be rude. Punching him in the face would be rude. Quinn stared at him, helpless to do anything else.

"My point is you'll get nowhere if you can't speak properly." Mr. Wilson concluded. He winked at her. "We're not all as forgiving as high school history teachers."

Quinn left the room baffled and despondent, and still a little relieved that she'd finished her presentation. She wondered how to fix how she spoke, how to slow her thoughts, how to meet peoples' eyes without shrinking. She wondered just how many things were actually wrong with her.

Maddie was kissing her _boyfriend_—in the thirteen-year-old sense of the term—as Quinn walked by, and Quinn sighed and looked away and headed towards the football field, where she could eat her peanut butter sandwich without being bothered.

~oooooooooooo~

**Present**

Her daughter was gorgeous. Pink and chubby, with an impressive grip on Quinn's finger and a shock of dark, curly hair. She was over eight pounds—a large baby, especially for Rachel—and she had wide brown eyes so similar to her wife's that Quinn was crying as soon as she saw them.

"How do you have the cutest babies?" Santana complained quietly, peering over Quinn's shoulder. "Marcus looked like a reptile."

Kurt gasped. "_Santana_."

"Well he doesn't _anymore_." She rolled her eyes.

Tears dripped from Quinn's nose onto the soft, pink baby blanket. "Hi, sweet girl." She breathed, smiling slightly. She stroked her finger lightly along the baby's cheek. "I'm mommy."

She'd realized quickly that her daughter was louder than James. She breathed noisily and cooed constantly, always drawing the attention back to herself. Her grip on Quinn's index finger still hadn't lessened.

"What's her name?" Santana whispered, finally able to tie Quinn's hair back.

Quinn looked up, smiling proudly. She rubbed at her eyes. "Emmie Mae."

Kurt processed for a moment, and then laughed quietly. "Oh God." He murmured.

"Emmie Mae Berry-Fabray." Santana said bluntly, staring at the side of Quinn's head. "Are you-I can't." She shook her head.

"I like the rhyme. It's cute." Kurt offered.

"It's after my mother." Quinn said absently. She couldn't take her eyes off Emmie's face. "She's-she's so-she's just like Rachel."

Quinn took a deep shuddery breath and looked up at Kurt. He smiled softly and nodded, and Santana scoffed lightly behind them.

"She's beautiful." She said shortly, possibly a little bitter.

Kurt chuckled. "Marcus is very handsome now."

Quinn babbled to Emmie, mostly nonsense, and was halfway through a teary story about a great whale named Wallace when a nurse came through the door. She cut herself off and wiped her face, and Santana set a hand on the top of her head.

"Rachel is stable and waking up now." The nurse informed, smiling.

Kurt and Santana heaved matching sighs of relief. Quinn let go of a sob that had been stuck in her throat for hours and pressed a watery kiss to Emmie's forehead. She could think again; she could breathe. She allowed herself a moment of relief and then stood on wobbly legs to follow the nurse to her wife's room.

"Give her a kiss for us." Kurt requested, grinning. He and Santana hugged Quinn and walked in the opposite direction to the waiting room.

Rachel's new room was slightly smaller. It was white—Quinn preferred the sunshine yellow—and lined on one wall with machines that hadn't been present in the delivery room. Quinn's breath caught at the sight of Rachel—pale but awake, barely—and she hurried to sit in the chair at the side of her bed.

Rachel's eyes opened and closed sluggishly, a bright brown against her pallid face, and Quinn wasn't sure how lucid she actually was.

"Rachel." Quinn murmured, watching carefully. "Little bear."

She took one of Rachel's hands and kissed her knuckles. Rachel's hazy gaze landed on her, brow furrowed slightly in concentration.

"You." Rachel finally proclaimed, grinning lopsidedly.

Quinn smiled at the slur in her voice.

"There you go." Rachel mumbled. She pulled her hand out of Quinn's and reached for Quinn's cheek, but missed and waved clumsily through the air instead. Quinn caught it and kissed it again, holding back tears. She kept her lips pressed to Rachel's hand until she could speak.

"Rachel, baby. This is our daughter." Emmie slept peacefully in her arms, squeaking with every other breath.

Rachel blinked and frowned. Quinn watched the emotions play across her face. Trust, confusion, realization, wonder, love. Quinn stood up so that she could safely place Emmie in Rachel's arms.

"This is mama." She cooed. She pressed a kiss to Rachel's forehead as she pulled back.

Rachel held Emmie carefully and looked at Quinn with wide, cloudy eyes. "She's so big." She whispered loudly. "Why's she so big?"

Quinn snorted lightly. She dragged a hand through Rachel's hair and shook her head. "I don't know, baby. You did so well."

"I did. She's huge." Rachel said absently.

She really wasn't. She was a normal sized baby, but Rachel looked so fascinated with her enormity that all Quinn could do was laugh. She was pleased that Rachel didn't seem to be in any pain at the moment.

Rachel chuckled when Emmie seized her finger. "I love you, baby girl."

"She looks just like you, Rachel." Quinn said fondly, watching her wife. "Those-she's got your eyes and your nose. And she's noisy."

Rachel scoffed and hugged Emmie closer. "I am not noisy, bear."

"You're the noisiest person I know."

Rachel ignored her, staring thoughtfully at Emmie's scrunched-up, chubby face. "She sounds like…a cat." She nodded resolutely, happy with her choice. "A baby cat. Purring."

Quinn pictured cubs, not kittens, and sat forward in her chair. Rachel eyed her patiently, like even in her jumbled state she knew exactly what was coming.

"Big cats—lion cubs—are much-they're smaller." Quinn informed, still dragging a hand through Rachel's hair. Her knee bounced excitedly. "Smaller than human babies, anyway. They're-they can be a foot long, and only weigh a pound. And there's-they're covered with fur from birth."

Rachel nodded, smiling. She reached a hand out and Quinn got up and sat on the edge of the bed so that she could give her wife a proper hug. She twisted awkwardly to wrap her arms around Rachel's shoulders without trapping Emmie, and then slid further onto the bed and melted into her warm embrace.

"I love you. She's perfect." Quinn mumbled into her messy hair. "You're perfect."

Rachel smiled against her ear. "She is. You are too, baby."

~ooooooooooooo~

**Age 17**

Quinn chewed slowly on her last bite of vegetables—cauliflower in a cheese sauce—before setting her fork down and eyeing the dishes of food on the table before her. She was reaching for more potatoes when her aunt looked up from her own plate and cleared her throat.

Quinn dropped her hand. She knew what was coming.

"I would hold off if I were you, Quinn." Lisa stated, eyeing her critically. "I think you've had enough."

Quinn blew the choppy hair out of her eyes and sighed quietly.

"You really need to watch what you eat. You want to look your best for those senior boys, don't you?"

Quinn managed not to roll her eyes. _No_, she wanted to say. She did not care for the senior boys. She cared for the charlotte potatoes sitting in the middle of the table. She cared that her aunt hadn't made any dessert in a month because of some asinine, shallow reasoning that Quinn couldn't wrap her mind around. People should eat what they like because they only have one shot at this life—simple as that.

Quinn glanced down at her stomach, still rumbling under her soft, green sweater, and thought longingly of the Oreo pie in the freezer. If she ever made it out of this house, she'd have ice cream and cookies as often as possible.

"Sit up straight, Quinn." Lisa instructed.

Quinn obliged. She watched Lisa daintily chew her food. "Would you like me to get the pie out of the freezer?"

"No desserts." Lisa shook her head without looking up. "You'll get fat. It's a shame you never joined a team at school. With your body type, you would've made such a good cheerleader."

Quinn stared at her empty plate and mumbled, "I'm glad I didn't."

"Why?" Lisa wondered—eyebrow raised—even though she knew the answer.

"I would've been terrible at it." Quinn stuck her hands in her pants pockets and crossed her legs. "And I don't like the cheerleaders."

They weren't hateful or mean, just generally loud and obsessive over things Quinn found idiotic. The same went for a lot of the student body.

"Boys like the cheerleaders." Lisa remarked.

Quinn balled her hands up in her pockets. "I don't like boys."

"You keep saying that, but-"

"And it won't-it's not going to _change_." She stared hard at the small, gold cross around her aunt's neck. She'd easily reconciled her faith and her sexuality years ago—God is love, after all. It just seemed to be taking a while for her aunt to do the same.

Lisa sighed, exasperated. She shook her head wordlessly.

"May I be excused?" Quinn entreated quietly.

Her aunt nodded, and Quinn stood quickly and walked towards the living room, hands still shoved in her pockets. She halted abruptly in the doorway and spun to face Lisa.

"When's the next time we'll be having dessert?" she wondered on a whim.

"Honestly." Lisa rolled her eyes. "Sort out your priorities, Quinn."

Quinn pursed her lips. She felt her priorities were just fine. She was planning on graduating high school and getting a job in the city, preferably with animals, because college just didn't seem like an option for her. Boys and body weight were at the bottom of her list.

So what if cupcakes were number one?

~ooooooooooooo~

**Present**

Quinn strode into the hospital room with James on her hip, aware of the matching green frosting around their mouths from the cupcake squeezed in James's hand. Brittany, Blaine, and Kurt were all crammed at the foot of Rachel's bed, cooing over Emmie in her bassinet, and Quinn shuffled past them to sit near the head.

Rachel hummed and licked at the icing when Quinn gave her a kiss.

"Your dads are on the way." Quinn informed, dropping a small cardboard bakery box onto the bed before her. She opened the lid and spun it so that Rachel could see. "I got you two cupcakes—one lemon, one vanilla."

She would've gotten more, but she only had one free hand. James held the green frosted cupcake towards her face and Quinn took a sloppy bite, showering both of them in crumbs.

"Mommy." He chuckled, palming her cheek.

Rachel smiled affectionately and reached up to wipe away the frosting he'd streaked across Quinn's face.

"And I got twelve cookies." Quinn continued with a hand over her mouth. "What would you like first, baby?"

Rachel was staring at her, lips tipped up. Quinn figured she'd pick the lemon cupcake. It was her favorite, and it was topped with blueberry icing that she could eat by itself. Quinn was pulling it out of the box when Rachel gently grasped her wrist and shook her head.

"In a minute, Quinn."

"Cake, mama?" James offered, nuzzling his blonde head into Quinn's neck and holding out the last bite of squished up, crumbly cupcake to Rachel.

Rachel sat up and craned forward so that she could kiss his cheek. "No thanks, Jimbo. I need to talk to mommy."

Quinn lifted a brow at that. Kurt stood from the foot of the bed and held his arms out for James, who went willingly, giggling around his mouthful of cupcake and kicking his tiny toddler boots against Kurt's chest.

_Ow_, Kurt mouthed, before swinging him up and onto his shoulders.

"We'll be in the cafeteria!" Blaine called, shuttling everybody out the door.

Rachel sat up straighter in bed. She patted her hands over the blankets on her lap and fiddled with her fingers. Quinn could see her eyes flickering around, tracing patterns, thinking. She put the box of baked goods to the side and waited patiently.

When several moments had passed and Rachel hadn't said anything, Quinn ducked forward to catch her gaze. "Ra-"

"I won't be carrying any more babies." Rachel said, smiling ruefully. She picked at her blankets.

Quinn closed her mouth.

"I don't think I'd be comfortable with it after this whole…" Rachel waved a hand around and sighed. "_Experience_. And also the doctor—this morning, when Puck and Kurt took you to breakfast—advised against it."

Rachel didn't look crushed. She wasn't broken up about it, Quinn could tell. She was just tired and pained from this whole ordeal. Her eyes were soft and heavy and warily watching Quinn.

"Do you want more babies?" Quinn wondered, standing up.

Rachel scooted over in the bed when she realized that Quinn was trying to climb in next to her. Her eyes landed on the swaddled pink newborn in the bassinet. "I don't know yet." She breathed. "We should probably work with what we have first."

Quinn hummed distractedly. She rolled halfway on top of Rachel in the narrow bed—so that her face was jammed against Rachel's head, smothered by her dark hair—and sighed contentedly.

"It's so roomy in here." She drawled. "Why are the beds so big?"

Quinn caught Rachel's smile out of the corner of her eye and grinned, pleased with herself.

Rachel wrapped an arm around Quinn's back, just to keep her from tumbling over the edge. She pulled her closer until they were pressed and twined together, and mumbled, "It's not made for two."

Quinn picked her head up, saw that she'd gotten green frosting in Rachel's hair, and wiped at it discreetly. Rachel mewled—probably under the impression that Quinn was playing with her hair—and it was so gentle and sweet and enchanting that Quinn stopped and looked at her. She propped herself up on an elbow while Rachel observed her wordlessly.

Quinn spun a lock of dark hair around her finger. "If we have more," she said slowly, "I'll carry them, and if we don't, that's perfectly fine."

Rachel's eyes danced over her face. "We're only five away from the Von Trapps."

Quinn smiled and leaned closer, inches from Rachel's face. She lightly tickled up Rachel's side and whispered, "If you make me have five more babies, you're the one who'll have to deal with me when I turn into a whale."

She remembered Wallace from the story she was telling earlier—a vegetarian whale who ate so much seaweed that all of the otters who lived in the kelp beds lost their homes. Wallace realized his mistake and swam with the otters across the world to find a new place for them to live. They ran into turtles and sharks and an enthusiastic seal named Rachel before settling near Australia.

Rachel tucked a hand under Quinn's sweater. "I like whales."

"I like _you_." Quinn returned.

Rachel nuzzled into Quinn's neck. Her gaze shifted and Quinn followed it to Emmie, asleep and breathing peacefully with all sorts of grunts and squeaks. Quinn thought about what she'd be doing right now if Rachel hadn't woken up. It was dark and terrifying and heavy on her chest. Her cheeks burned and her eyes watered at the thought that the small, warm body tucked up against her had been in so much danger.

She tipped her head and pressed her lips to Rachel's hair.

"Rachel." She whispered thickly.

Rachel hummed. She tapped Quinn's stomach.

Quinn cleared her throat. "I love you. I don't know what I'd do if we were apart."

"Well." Rachel tilted her head up to kiss Quinn's chin. "We'd find our way back together again."

She said it like it was obvious, like it was ridiculous to think otherwise, like it was implicit in their ten years together. It was the warmest, happiest feeling that only Rachel could inspire.

"A trail of cupcakes would probably work for you." Rachel mused. Quinn laughed silently and it bounced her head around. "Maybe a trap—one of those boxes with the stick holding it up—with cookies as bait."

"Shut it, Rachel." Quinn mumbled, smiling. "You wouldn't be able to catch me. I'm clever."

"You're not clever."

"I am." Quinn insisted. She pressed her nose into Rachel's cheek. "I'm clever."

Rachel shut her eyes. She kept up her rubbing of Quinn's stomach and said, "Tell me a clever story."

Quinn knew just the one.

"Once upon a time, there was an enthusiastic seal named Rachel Berry…"


	36. Chapter 36, Part 1

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 36: Old Like Elephants, Part 1**

Rachel quickly determined that Emmie was a maniac. It took Quinn a while longer—mostly because she was at work all day and Rachel presented the evidence in sporadic, deranged outbursts—but by four weeks of age, they'd come to a consensus.

Emmie's eyes were just a little sharper than James's had been when he was a month old. There was a clever, calculating glint behind that warm baby smile, and Rachel would feel it from across the room. She enjoyed those moments, engaged her daughter's crafty spirit, because most of Emmie's waking hours were spent shrieking, eating, and spitting everything back up because milk seemed to bother her.

"She's so loud." Quinn whispered, awed, when Emmie's cries degenerated into tearless wails one night.

Rachel stared at the ceiling. She offered a quiet, regretful, "She's me," because her two-week-old baby perfectly matched the descriptions her fathers had given her of her own newborn experience multiple times. She realized "good set of lungs" meant "incessant, attention-seeking, devilish bawling" and she'd been _lied to_ for thirty years.

Quinn rolled over in bed and pressed her palms against Rachel's ears.

It only dulled the noise, but Rachel swallowed thickly, let her eyes flutter closed with fleeting relief. Quinn kissed the side of her head and Rachel lay quietly for a few minutes, just until she felt less inclined to throw herself off the balcony.

She rolled out of bed when Quinn's half-asleep hands fell away from her ears.

There wasn't much to do in her apartment in the dead of night, she'd learned. She checked on James, who was curled up in a ball sleeping soundly in his farm animal pajamas, and crept back into the hallway, envious of him and the four lightly snoring dogs on the floor of his bedroom.

Rachel looked in on Emmie next, unsurprised to hear the desperate, dry wailing that meant her daughter would be dropping off in the next few minutes. She strolled through the kitchen next, stubbed her toe on a chair and fell into the breakfast table, then hobbled back to the master bedroom because it was a nice night for a bath.

She was running the water and stripping herself of the tangled limbs of her pajamas when Quinn appeared in the doorway, blinking against the light.

"What are you—did you spill something?" she wondered thickly.

Rachel shook her head. She dropped her top onto the floor and glanced at the mirror, cringing at the state of her abdomen and the scar forming near her navel. She sighed and stepped towards the bathtub, but Quinn caught her around the waist and nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

She was plastered hotly against Rachel's back before Rachel could stop her.

"Baby, come on." Rachel squirmed.

"It's quiet now. You should sleep." Quinn mumbled. She squeezed tighter and kissed Rachel's ear. More softly she added, "You're gorgeous, you know."

Rachel fidgeted. Quinn met her eyes in the mirror and smiled.

"_I_ can see it." Quinn tickled up Rachel's sides. She kissed Rachel's shoulders and the side of her head. "Here and here and here."

"Quinn."

"It's all lovely." Quinn plowed on, rocking her from side to side. "Even that odd little toe." She scrunched up her nose. "But I'm not going to kiss that because God knows where your feet have been."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Let me get in the bath."

She was honestly seconds from passing out.

"Come back to bed." Quinn puffed out her cheeks and Rachel snorted softly at the sight.

"Idiot." She chuckled.

Quinn lifted a brow and let her go. She abruptly pulled her own fuzzy pajama pants and underwear down and kicked them away, and then struggled with her t-shirt and tipped into the wall until it was free of her head. Her blonde hair flipped around as she determinedly plucked off her socks.

Rachel watched, amused, as Quinn stepped straight into the tub, realized it was too hot, gasped, and plowed ahead anyway. She dropped fully into the water, sloshing it over the sides, and grinned, pleased with herself.

"Bear…" Rachel drawled fondly.

Quinn held her hand out expectantly. "I'll stay awake so you won't drown."

"It's too hot."

"It's nice." Quinn insisted, skin turning alarmingly red

Rachel took her hand and stepped carefully over the edge, taking extra time to get used to the water while Quinn kept a secure, steadying hand on her ass. When Rachel finally sat down and relaxed, she tipped her head back on Quinn's shoulder and prodded her thigh.

"Don't let me sink."

Quinn played with the wet ends of Rachel's hair and quietly wondered, "Do you remember—in our first apartment—the pipes used to make loads of noise?"

Rachel smiled and nodded, eyes closed. "I think you slept in my room."

Quinn scoffed. "Your _bed_, actually."

"You were such a sweetheart." Rachel hummed. She tipped her head curiously. "I wonder what happened."

She heard Quinn's indignant inhale and smiled when she felt her hair being dragged into soapy spikes.

"Remember when that chili you made got me violently ill?" Quinn asked against her ear.

"Remember when _you_ refused to stop eating it?" Rachel returned immediately. Every detail was locked into her superior memory. "Remember when you put a hole through the drywall bouncing around on the yoga ball? Remember when you used a Swiffer to beat a pigeon out of our apartment?"

Quinn laughed, bouncing Rachel's head around, and squeezed her affectionately. Rachel squirmed while Quinn said, "Remember when you kissed me at the beach?"

"No, I don't."

"Not at all?" Quinn smiled. "Are you positive?"

Rachel frowned. "Was that—were you the one I took to Spain? Or the one who took me to Los Angeles?" She gasped abruptly. "No, wait, you're the girl who-"

"Don't do that." Quinn protested, prodding Rachel's side.

Rachel twisted at her soft tone. Quinn's eyes were shining and glazed with exhaustion, cheeks red because they were roasting like lobsters, sweating ridiculously. She smiled at Rachel's concern.

"It was so cold, and you were so nervous," Rachel remembered fondly.

If Quinn hadn't been submerged in a bathtub of—essentially—lava, the warm blush to her neck and cheeks would've been visible.

"And your tongue was blue from that gummy fruit thing."

Quinn tugged on one of Rachel's ears. "I never thought you'd kiss me."

"I know."

Rachel tipped forward until she was inches from Quinn's face, smiling widely. "I remember every bit of it, bear, and I couldn't wait to kiss you."

Quinn palmed Rachel's hot cheeks, tapped her ears, kissed her with a laugh.

Across the apartment, Emmie shrieked.

~ooooooooooooo~

Emmie was eight weeks old by Quinn's birthday, so the celebration involved board games and rum-soaked gummy bears for the adults and Play-Doh party favors and naptime for James, Simba, Marcus, and Em.

Rachel watched her daughter smile as James aggressively pushed the baby swing to alarming heights. She was wedged between Brittany and Puck on the couch—blurry-eyed and nauseous because of all the cake she'd eaten—but determined to stay awake because Quinn was downing spiked limeade like there was no tomorrow and _somebody_ had to look after their babies.

"Careful, Jimbo." Rachel called over the uproar of Santana spontaneously changing the rules of Scattergories. "Slow it down."

Puck scoffed. "She's loving it. She's a thrill seeker." He gave James a thumbs-up and a sloppy smile. "Look at her face."

"She'll come flying out."

James paused, hands at his sides, and glanced between Rachel and Puck. His hair curled over his ears and tickled his rumpled collar, and his hazel eyes were wide and conflicted.

"Keep pushing, Jon Bon." Puck encouraged. "You're doin' great."

Rachel sat forward—immediately regretted it because she could've projectiled over the coffee table—and pointed a finger at her son when she felt her stomach was under control.

"James Christopher Robin."

James looked back at the slowing swing, and then at Quinn, who was loudly arguing her case that "corpse" could be a "thing found at the beach" for the letter "C."

"Have you had a lot of dead bodies wash up on the sand when you've gone?" Kurt cried incredulously.

Quinn's voice was raspy and deliberate when she replied, "_No_, but it's possible."

Santana nodded sagely. "I'll accept it." She said, like she was grand master of the game, but she was drowned out by the din of Blaine's answer of "Caribbean people."

James hesitated a second more, and then turned and planted a kiss on Emmie's head, palming her in the eye in the process. He jammed his hands in his pockets and thundered away from the swing to climb into Rachel's lap.

"There's my sweet boy." Rachel grinned and cuddled him to her chest.

Puck gave an exaggerated sigh. "Dude."

Rachel knew that if Puck was trying to corrupt her children, to turn them into little trouble-making rebels, he'd have better luck with Emmie. She probably wouldn't even need any help, any guiding along that particular path. Rachel could see a fist sticking up out of the swing, waving for her brother, and James climbed out of Rachel's lap and hurried back to the swing to keep pushing because he _knew_ his sister would fly off the handle if he didn't.

Those brown eyes and sweet smile and fluffy, dark hair wouldn't fool him.

There was a knock on the door, and Rachel got up to answer it because the Scattergories situation was only escalating and nobody else seemed capable. She squealed as soon as the door swung open and threw her arms around Sam's neck.

"Hey, stranger." He laughed as Penguin—all quirky black spots and clumsy, grown-up paws now—bulldozed her way through the door.

Rachel pulled back and patted his chest. "We didn't know you were coming!"

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but a loud exclamation of "Penguin!" came from the living room and he smiled and waited instead. Quinn came barreling into the entryway seconds later, red-faced and smiling widely.

"Sam!" she delighted, knocking clumsily into the doorjamb before tripping into a hug.

Rachel snorted and put a hand on her back to steady her.

"Everybody's drunk." She stage whispered at Sam's raised eyebrows.

Quinn shook her head and stepped back, and Rachel wrapped an arm around her waist. "Mm'not, baby." She said, intensely watching Rachel's eyes. She looked down at herself and frowned. "But I do—all of my legs are itching."

Sam laughed. "All of them?"

"I didn't know you were coming! I would've—I would've-"

"Baby." Rachel smiled, squeezed her side.

"So you're having a good birthday, huh." Sam observed, amused. He rocked forward on his toes. "I have news for you guys."

"Are you engaged?" Rachel asked before he'd even finished his statement. "Did you get promoted? Injured?" She scanned his limbs quickly, but nothing seemed to have been bitten off by a killer whale. "Are you having a baby?"

"How's…Shamu?" Quinn slurred, miles behind.

Sam declared, "I'm moving back to New York," and his eyes flickered between Rachel's and Quinn's, gauging their reactions. "I'll be a sea lion trainer at the aquarium in Brooklyn."

"Oh my God!" Rachel shrieked as Quinn echoed, "Sea lions!"

It was fantastic. Sam was Quinn's first friend, her NYU classmate, the one who taught her how to swim and then beat her over the head with an inflatable crocodile—confident that she wouldn't drown—after she dunked him. He could do the same with James and Emmie. And Penguin could infuse some life into their aging dogs, change up the scenery a bit, maybe get Barnaby up and about.

Quinn hugged him again, and then dragged him through the door as he supported half her weight.

Sam was greeted with "Nacho Fosco!" and "Uh-oh, somebody got fired!" when he walked into the living room. James left the swing behind and ran as soon as he recognized who it was, and dissolved into laughter when he was lifted into the air and spun—dangerously close to the wall—like always.

Quinn watched from behind the couch, swaying unsteadily, and Rachel leaned into her side and stilled her fidgety hands.

"I wonder what—what the whales…Did you know he was coming back?" Quinn wondered absently.

"Not at all."

If Rachel had known, Quinn would've known. Everybody Rachel knew or spoke to on a daily basis would've known.

Quinn glanced down at Rachel, blinking to focus her gaze. Her hair fell into her face and she smelled like gummy bears—rum soaked—tonight.

"I finished my book, Rachel." She whispered loudly.

Rachel's eyebrows lifted, legitimately surprised.

Quinn hummed, and then distracted herself and kept humming a little tune. "Tina's found—found a publisher." She continued when Rachel tapped her lips. She smiled and kissed Rachel's head. "And you can read it, I think, if you promise not to mock."

Rachel gasped. "But there's _so much_ to mock."

"You think you're frun—funny."

"And _you_ think you're not a little bit drunk, bear." Rachel returned fondly. She smoothed out the frown between Quinn's eyes and pushed her in the direction of the bedroom. "I'm proud of you, baby."

"M'proud of you too." Quinn wobbled down the hallway like she'd never seen it before.

Rachel laughed quietly. "Why? What did I do?"

It was only Rachel's superior reflexes that kept Quinn from tripping through the sliding door in the master bedroom when she spun around. Rachel seized her sweater and kept her upright, and Quinn stared at her with shining eyes, some disbelief.

"You're my book, baby." Quinn said bluntly. "It's me and you, and some pets and some other people, and no rhyme or reason. It doesn't make any—any sense, but you're—it's—everything-"

Rachel pressed her lips together, brushed the hair away from Quinn's warm face.

She couldn't really speak. Her throat had gone thick and she chewed on her cheek until it passed. Quinn watched her, searched her face.

"Happy birthday, baby." Rachel finally managed.

Quinn smiled, dropped back onto the bed and tugged Rachel after her. "I love you too."

~ooooooooooooo~

Rachel had known it was coming. Barnaby was twelve years old, white-faced and stiff-jointed, though his tail would still thump happily when Quinn would carry him outside or put bits of bacon and waffles in his bowl. His eyes were quiet, and Rachel thought she was prepared for it.

She was roused from her sleep by a warm hand on her arm, a kiss on her cheek. Quinn would usually let her sleep in the morning when she left for work—on the off chance that Emmie wasn't screaming—and Rachel rolled over and blinked groggily up at her wife.

"Hey, baby." Quinn said softly.

She was dressed already—slacks and a sweater—and her hair was pinned neatly back for work. Rachel fumbled and sat up immediately at the somber look on her face.

"What's—are you okay?" she coughed to clear her voice and rubbed at her eyes. "What's wrong?"

Quinn took a breath. She looked pained, and her gaze drifted away. Rachel watched her carefully. She wasn't stuck on her words, just reluctant to say them.

"Quinn."

"I went to get the dogs out of James's room to feed them."

Rachel's breath caught in her throat. A strangled, "Oh no," worked its way through.

"Baby, Barnaby's—he passed away." Quinn swallowed rapidly and squeezed Rachel's hand. "I moved him to the office and called in to work, but-"

Rachel slid abruptly out of bed, with Quinn's hand in a vice-grip, and stepped towards the door. She ignored the burning in her eyes, the sudden ache in her chest, the way it rose and fell unevenly with her breathing. Quinn was warm and steady and quiet at her side.

A small cry made its way past Rachel's lips when she saw Cloud, Char, and Cornelius bunched up together outside the office door, staring at the doorknob. She patted all of their eager heads, and then Quinn ushered them aside and let Rachel slide through the door first. Barnaby was on a fleecy blanket in the corner, all warm and soft and golden, like he could be sleeping.

"Barnes." Rachel said thickly, in tears halfway across the room.

She sat by her dog, her first dog, and held his head and tangled her fingers into the straw-colored feathering over his side. Quinn sat next to Rachel and watched her with the most heartbreakingly gentle expression.

Barnaby was Rachel's dog first. He was the puppy she got while auditioning for _Funny Girl_, the one who drove away her roommates and destroyed her DVD player and chased after the ducks in the cold Central Park ponds. He was hers for two years before Quinn. Rachel taught him to dance, gave him disastrous baths in her tub, introduced him to her fans, cuddled up with him when her bed was particularly cold.

Barnaby was the one who liked sleeping in James's bedroom. The other dogs would just do what Barnaby did—let James yank on their ears and then watch him when Rachel and Quinn were in another room, get up to investigate Emmie's cries _every single time_.

Rachel started to cry in earnest, shoulders shaking.

Quinn remained silent, blinked against her own watery gaze, rubbed a soothing hand over Rachel's back. They sat like that until the sun shone blindingly through the curtains. Rachel quieted herself, breathing heavily, flexed her fingers and came away with stray golden fur.

"Do you think it hurt?" she wondered shakily, staring at Barnaby's whiskers.

Quinn's hand stilled. "No, baby. Not at all."

Rachel nodded, relieved.

Barnaby obviously hadn't made any noise, or James would be awake and upset. None of the other dogs had seemed alarmed. Rachel was comforted by that.

Quinn squeezed Rachel's arm and stood up, kissed her on the top of her head. "I'll give you a minute, baby."

Rachel sniffled and nodded. She wiped at her eyes but they just wouldn't stop leaking. She heard Quinn fall into conversation with the other three dogs, and then the click of the door. Her hands kept roaming through Barnaby's fur, gently tugging on his ears. It was what she'd done last night while feeding him a spoonful of peanut butter because he refused to eat anything from anybody else.

"They'll probably have waffles there, Barnes. And maple syrup and Sugar Puffs." Rachel's voice wobbled. "And lots of places to swim, and…whole rooms of things for you to wreck."

Rachel dragged her fingers repeatedly over his head.

She'd grown up with this dog, accomplished her dreams, started a family. She thought of how Barnaby acted when he met Quinn that first day in their apartment, how he opened her up and followed them through for ten years with his lovable nature, and all she could say was, "Thank you, Barnes."

~ooooooooooooo~

"You were still his favorite, you know."

Quinn's voice was soft. She sat in the grass by Rachel, watching Sam and Puck dig a hole in Blaine's parents' yard. Rachel quietly twisted Barnaby's faded blue collar between her fingers, tapped the bone-shaped name tag.

"I know you think he liked me better, and he loved everybody," Quinn tipped sideways and kissed Rachel's shoulder, "But he was yours. He did it for you."

Rachel smiled sadly. "That's sweet."

"Our life together has been his story." Quinn mused.

Rachel turned, listened expectantly. Quinn's hair shone in the sun, just long enough to tickle her shoulders. Her eyes danced and she smiled thoughtfully.

"Like…when we first met, and you let me take him on a walk even though you'd only known me for a few minutes."

Rachel hummed. "You seemed honest."

"And then after—after I had that first panic attack, he ate my boomerang in the park, stole another dog's ball, and went swimming with the geese in the pond."

"I got _so_ angry." Rachel recalled, laughing. Quinn seemed pleased.

"You told me to jump in after him." Quinn recalled. "You thought something would eat him."

"A legitimate concern."

Quinn nodded indulgently. She tapped Rachel's thigh as they watched Brittany and Kurt run around with Penguin, Cloud, Char, and Cornelius.

"And—the day that I asked you on our first date—he ate some of the flowers. He's actually done that every year."

Rachel grinned. "Remember when you took him up to the podium to give that speech at the animal rescue?"

Quinn watched her warmly.

"And we'd take him to all those 5-Ks." Rachel chuckled. She plucked bits of grass from the ground and wrapped it around her fingers. "And I remember you tripped over him into the television dancing to _Footloose_ the week before you graduated from NYU."

"And then you fed me peanut butter cookies all day." Quinn reminded proudly. "Barnaby and I had it all planned out."

"You know what _I_ remember?" Santana dropped into the grass opposite Rachel with a baby carrier in each hand and James chasing after her. "I remember watching your demon pets while you were gallivanting around on your honeymoon, and having to _pry_ Flappy's leg from Barnaby's mouth while the other ones wrecked my bathroom."

Rachel laughed loudly. She remembered that phone call in the hotel in Hawaii. Quinn had been slathered in aloe gel and trying to rid Rachel of her underwear.

James hurled himself into Quinn's chest with a hearty chuckle. She groaned exaggeratedly and stood him up and brushed the dirt from his shorts.

"Mommy."

"Yes, Jem."

James tilted his head up and squinted curiously at the sky. Rachel picked grass out of his fluffy hair.

"Barney's up there?" He pointed at the clouds and looked questioningly between Rachel and Quinn. Santana's eyebrows lifted, amused.

Rachel glanced at her wife. They'd told James that Barnaby had passed away, and he accepted it with a frown and a clarification that Cornelius, Cloud, Char, and Jelly Bean were still with him. Rachel knew James was so mellow and sweet that he'd figure Barnaby was happy wherever he was, even it was away from him.

"He is, sweetheart." Quinn said. "You know how you used to feed him your Sugar Puffs in the morning?"

"Because mommy is a bad example…" Rachel said under her breath. Quinn narrowed her eyes, scrunched up her nose.

James nodded and sat down on Rachel's legs.

"Well, he's got _all_ the Sugar Puffs he could want now."

James smiled widely, eyes bright.

"And he can swim and run and play with the other dogs." Quinn described.

Rachel listened fondly and tacked on, "And he'll watch over you, because he'll miss you, Jimbo."

"That's okay. But I'm—I'm gonna miss him more." James said resolutely, puffing out his cheeks.

Rachel looked down at the collar she'd been fidgeting with for the past half hour and bit her lip. She slowly pried the nametag off of the metal loop and held it up for James.

"Rachel," Quinn said gently.

Rachel flashed her a reassuring smile.

"You can have this, Jay. To remember him." She tapped the metal tag and dragged her finger over the stylized 'Barnaby' and her phone number. "But you have to promise to keep it safe. You can't lose it, sweetie."

James's eyes widened. He nodded seriously and held out a careful hand. When Rachel let go, he studied the tag and clenched it tightly in his fist, climbed up from Rachel's legs and hurried over to show it to Uncle Sam.

Tears pricked Rachel's eyes again and she tipped into Quinn's side. Quinn kissed her head, and then rummaged through her bag and pulled out the small plaque they'd had engraved to go on the tree where Barnaby would be buried.

It would always make Rachel smile.

"_Wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the forest, a little boy and his Bear will always be playing." _

― _A.A. Milne_


	37. Chapter 36, Part 2

AN: So this is the end! Thanks to everybody who stuck with this from JOTKOR, everyone who left sweet messages, happy comments…Thanks for all your patience. There won't be another sequel, but one-shots are a possibility. In the end, I hope it's made you guys smile.

**Still off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 36: Old Like Elephants, Part 2**

Rachel wrung her hands nervously outside of the small, blue building. She'd visited in the weeks prior—checked the place out—just to make sure it wasn't an undercover crack house or situated on an old radioactive dump site or train tracks. It was actually only two blocks away from her apartment, and it was charming and bright, shaded by trees, with a well-maintained fence and garden and a new "Rosalind Rhymer Pre-School" sign out front.

She had conducted a full investigation and come away with nothing negative to say about the place.

Now, Rachel was rethinking everything—every decision she'd ever made—and Quinn caught up to her, pushing Emmie's stroller and chattering away to her daughter. James sat on her shoulders with one hand tangled in her hair and the other yanking on her ear.

Rachel faced her abruptly. "I think we should turn around."

Quinn lifted a brow, glanced at the building.

"Two and a half is so young. We should just wait until he's three. And this place isn't really—their reputation-"

"Is stellar." Quinn said. She pried James's arms from around her forehead and stepped in front of Rachel. "You had a tour of the place, babe. You saw the other kids, you talked to the parents."

They could all be pawns in somebody's elaborate, illegal game.

Rachel listened glumly.

"It's a nice place. Everybody's happy."

"You happy, mama?" James queried distractedly, wrapping his arms back around Quinn's head. "I'm happy when—um, ice cream."

Rachel fidgeted a bit desperately with her hands. "But we can't just—we can't just leave him here!"

She would have to homeschool. There was no other option. She'd just forget about ever returning to Broadway or doing a show on the West End like she'd planned so that she could spend all of her time with her babies.

Quinn stilled her hands, squeezed her fingers, said, "Rachel, you are four minutes away."

Four minutes. The length of time a person could survive without oxygen.

Rachel's eyes widened and Quinn noticed, a little alarmed. James began loudly singing his "ABCs" in the silence, and it was just fuel for Rachel's fire. Quinn could keep reading to him, and Rachel could keep playing with his animal alphabet flashcards, and James would be just fine. Pre-school could wait. He was probably prepared for second grade already.

All other toddlers were inferior to hers.

"You know _Pooh's Grand Adventure_?"

Rachel nearly rolled her eyes. She'd only seen it about seven thousand times.

"Don't look like that." Quinn scolded, smiling. "Listen to me."

"I already know what you're going to say. It's-"

"Christopher Robin goes to school." Quinn said loudly, drowning her out, swinging their hands between them. "And he leaves a note to tell Pooh and everybody where he's gone, but Pooh gets honey all over it and Owl reads it and tells—tells everybody that Christopher Robin has gone to 'skull' instead of 'school,' and a skullasaurus is after him."

Quinn slowed her words, shook her head around. James copied her and Rachel tried not to smile.

"So they go—they all go to Skull Cave to find him, and they run into loads of problems, and Pooh can't remember what Christopher Robin used to tell him—the whole, you're braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, smarter than you think thing. He keeps getting the words all mixed up, and then he's—he gets stuck in a pit, and Christopher Robin is the one to come and rescue him with a honey pot."

"Bear. What-"

"Christopher Robin tells Pooh that he'll go to school the next day, but he'll come home." Quinn lowered her voice, blinked to contain herself. "And Pooh understands, and he misses him, but he trusts that Christopher Robin will come home every day."

Rachel lifted an eyebrow, amused. "So I'm Pooh in this scenario?"

"Pooh Bear." James laughed brightly.

He tipped backwards, testing it out, and Quinn seized his wrists to keep him upright on her shoulders.

"Just—he'll come back, baby." Quinn assured softly.

Rachel bit down on her bottom lip. Her resolution was slipping. She always went back to what Quinn had told her years ago, the day she proposed, how hippos are born underwater and something about leaving the forest despite your fears. It was frightening, it was new, but Rachel would still have her baby girl at home to love on, to keep her from sleeping and to spit up milk on every surface of the house.

"Okay." Rachel nodded determinedly.

She reached up and plucked James from Quinn's shoulders, stood him on the ground and held his hand, just so they'd all be able to fit through the door.

The first room was a check-in and cubby area, and Quinn followed Rachel inside, bumping the stroller over brightly colored rubber mats. She critically eyed the illustrated counting and alphabet posters while Rachel greeted one of the teachers with a somewhat forced, cheery, "Hi, Mrs. Carragher!"

James remained a step behind Rachel while the woman approached. Her hair was light and neat and curled, eyes smiling and green, arms stained with finger paint and burdened with a bucket of plastic toys.

"Good morning, Mrs. Berry." She chirped, and then waved sweetly at James. "Good morning, honey."

Quinn rolled the stroller over and remained a step behind Rachel, level with James. Rachel smiled to herself.

"And you must be Quinn." Mrs. Carragher held out her hand and Quinn took it firmly, watched her lips before settling on her eyes. "I'm Anne Carragher. The children call me Mrs. C."

Quinn nodded slightly. She stuck her hands into her dress pockets and stepped back. "Do you—where did you go to college?"

Rachel caught the flash of surprise in Mrs. C's eyes, but the woman held Quinn's gaze and answered, "NYU, actually. A _long_ time ago."

"What—what degrees do you have?"

"Baby." Rachel whispered, smothering her smile.

Of course Quinn would be concerned that James's pre-school teacher wasn't smart enough. She couldn't have him surrounded by morons.

Mrs. Carragher squared her shoulders, smiling. "I have a Bachelor's in primary education, a Master's in early childhood education, and twenty-five years of experience."

Quinn nodded. She seemed to remember after a moment and quickly added, "It's nice to meet you."

"Is James ready for us? We're excited to have him today."

Rachel crouched down by James, who watched her nervously, picking at the buttons on his little Polo.

"Are you ready for school, Jimbo?" Rachel asked, injecting far more enthusiasm into her voice than she was actually feeling. "This is the place I was telling you about."

James's mouth remained firmly shut. His eyes began to water.

Quinn planted a hand on Rachel's head—because it would amuse James—and leaned over. "Hey Jem, do you know what I can see through that door right there?" She pointed towards the door to the main classroom and Rachel let out an exaggerated, excited gasp.

James's brow furrowed. He shook his head slightly.

Quinn whispered, "Well, _I_ can see a Thomas the Tank Engine train set."

Rachel turned to her wife, feigning confusion. "I thought you were talking about _all_ that Play-Doh."

James bit his lip and rocked on his heels. He glanced away, and Rachel looked over to find Mrs. C digging through her bucket of toys and coming up with a large, plastic elephant. She crouched next to Rachel and held up the toy, smiling warmly.

"Would you like to take this and play in the classroom, James?"

Rachel's heart hammered waiting for his response. His mouth remained shut.

"Some of the other children are already here." Mrs. C pressed. "I'm sure they'd love to share their toys. There's another little boy who likes Thomas the train as much as you do."

Quinn hummed like she doubted that and Rachel chuckled.

James nodded though, silently, and Rachel could see the anticipation in his eyes. She wrapped him in a hug and kissed all over his fluffy hair, told him she loved him, and he forgot that he was trying to be quiet and laughed loudly. Quinn caught him next, blew a raspberry against his neck and made sure Barnaby's tag was still in his pocket.

And then Mrs. C handed him the elephant, and he wouldn't say a word, but the delight was evident on his face. With a final wave, he went into the classroom, and Rachel bit into her cheek to contain herself.

"Just five hours, baby." Quinn smiled, pulling her into a hug. "He'll come home."

Rachel knew it. She'd make sure of it, but she'd miss him every minute.

~ooooooooooooo~

Rachel read the final draft of Quinn's book at night, when Emmie could sleep for more than two hours at a time and the apartment was silent and nobody needed her attention. She liked being able to look over at Quinn when she hit a particularly touching or genuine or funny passage, to just watch her sleep, drooling a little bit on Rachel's pillow.

Sometimes she'd be so charmed by her wife's mind that she'd have to put the book down and love on her for a bit. Other times—like when she saw that Quinn included a slightly altered story of Rachel vomiting from heat exhaustion into a trash can at a 5k—Rachel would scoff and spitefully steal all the blankets.

It would backfire though, because Quinn would just plaster herself to Rachel in the night to warm up.

The first line in the book was, "It never occurred to me that I would get here, with half my arm in a grizzly bear's mouth and my wife on the other side of the glass, so visibly terrified that I'd be mauled."

Rachel smiled to herself—she'd read the whole tale twice by now, lived it herself—and thumbed through the rest of the pages, waiting for the radio host to set up. It had been Tina's idea to do a radio interview, just to personally introduce Quinn's book to the world, and Rachel had been shanghaied into participating because Quinn had been daunted by the prospect.

"I'll sound like a moron." Quinn bemoaned as soon as Tina pitched the idea. She'd looked stricken, and Rachel had responded with, "No, you're clever, remember?"

Quinn was unamused, bent forward over her cereal.

"Just speak slowly, bear." Rachel assured. "You'll be fine."

And then Quinn had looked at her—really studied her for a moment, with an idea in her eyes—puffed out her cheeks, played with Rachel's fingers, pressed all of Rachel's buttons. She knew exactly what she was doing, and Rachel had sighed heavily and agreed before Quinn could even ask.

Now, Rachel's goal was just to support her wife and assure her own fans that she was still alive and well.

Brian, their enthusiastic, bespectacled interviewer, spun his rolling chair around and drummed his palms against the table. "Aaaand…we're back." He drawled into his mic, winking at Quinn.

Quinn's leg bounced wildly and Rachel attempted to hold it still.

"Joining us this morning is Quinn Fabray, fabricator of those fabulous autism awareness runs in the park none of us are able to finish, and author of the book of the season, _Keys of Reason_."

Rachel grinned exaggeratedly at her wife and mouthed, "Book of the season."

"At her side is Rachel Berry," Brian continued, "a Broadway favorite—most recently of the stellar revival of _Hello, Dolly__—_wife, and mother of two."

"Hi, sweethearts!" Rachel chirped into the microphone.

Brian grinned. "Are they listening now? Are they old enough?"

They were definitely listening. It was pancake morning at Sam's and there was no doubt that the radio was the center of attention, unless Emmie was drowning it out with her woes or chocolate chips had proved to be too large of a distraction for James.

"James is nearly three and Em's ten months." Rachel said.

Brian winced sympathetically.

Rachel laughed, insisted, "No, we love it."

"Quinn doesn't seem to agree with you there."

Quinn cut her gaze to him, eyes narrowed, and Rachel snorted quietly because her wife had obviously been off in her own world, staring at the posters on the wall and wondering what to have for lunch. Her knee resumed bouncing under Rachel's hand.

"Let's talk about the reason you're here." Brian suggested brightly. "Now folks, for those of you who don't know, _Keys of Reason_ comes out this Friday, nationwide. Quinn, can you tell us what it's about? It's autobiographical, correct?"

Quinn's breath hitched. "It's—yes, sort of." She shook her head, let her eyes flit around while she gathered her thoughts.

"The book is—it's just tales from my experiences, all strung together and polished in places to make something that's-" Quinn shrugged, glanced at Rachel, "-that'll _hopefully_ make you laugh or cry. Or eat, maybe. Pancakes. Just feel something. It does—it _does _have a point."

Rachel stared proudly at the side of her wife's head.

"So what would you say the message is?" Brian wondered. "What do you hope people take away from this?"

Quinn smiled. "It's—everybody is odd. _Everybody_ has some crazy in them, and everybody has people out there who will love them for it. Even—even if they haven't found you yet."

"Are there a lot of crazy stories in the book?"

Quinn tipped back in her chair, side-eyed Rachel.

Brian caught on and smiled. "Will we get to read about how Broadway sensation Rachel Berry acts at home?"

Rachel sat forward immediately, seizing her mic and knocking her knee into the table. "Uh, _yes_." She said, indignant. "But don't let Quinn sway your opinion of me, dear fans. If you come across a certain chapter detailing how I catapulted from a yoga ball and kicked Quinn in the face, take context into account."

Quinn laughed. "Baby, there's no good _context_ for-"

Rachel shushed her loudly and gestured for Brian to continue.

"What inspired you to write this, Quinn?" he asked, amused.

"Rachel."

There wasn't even a second's hesitation. Rachel awwed into her mic.

"She's impossible." Quinn continued sagely, eyeing her wife. Rachel's expression dropped abruptly.

"And…she's ridiculous. I don't even—I don't know how she got me to marry her. And everything she-"

"Uh, _excuse me_." Rachel interrupted loudly, reaching for the microphone.

Quinn plowed on, "And everything she does-" She paused and shook her head, stared seriously at Brian. "It's actually—you know, Emperor penguins—the mothers leave the eggs in the care of the fathers and then walk seventy-five miles back—back to the sea for food, where loads of them are eaten by whales and seals."

Rachel grimaced.

"And it's not even walking. They don't—they're not really ambulatory, so it's more of a wobbling waddle and a sort of ice toboggan-"

Quinn cut herself off when Rachel tapped her thigh.

"Where were you going with that, Quinn?" Brian chuckled.

Quinn's mouth dropped open, unsure, and Rachel quickly sat up to her own mic. "Quinn knows I'd walk seventy-five miles and be eaten by a killer whale for my babies."

She knew it would get a laugh, and she knew that what Quinn was saying was more than that. She could see it in her eyes, her grateful gaze. Rachel was accustomed to hearing "I love you and everything you do" through a fast jumble of words and animal tales, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Brian pulled out a stack of index cards and thumbed through them. "We've got some fan questions now for you both, if that's alright."

"Of course!" Rachel enthused, settling back in her seat.

"First one," Brian grinned at what was written on the card, "Do you plan on having any more kids?"

"We want seven, like the von Trapps." Rachel answered brightly, ignoring Quinn's snort.

She'd ruled out having a family band—though Emmie would certainly shine in one—and now seven was an abstract number she'd chosen just because it would be vibrant and loud and loving. Nobody would ever be alone.

Quinn clarified, "We haven't decided yet. We'll see," while Rachel contemplated breaking into song.

Brian flipped his cards. "Second question—at home, what is your favorite song to dance to?"

Rachel inhaled sharply, abruptly overwhelmed. So many days spent dancing around the living room, sliding around the kitchen and singing into a wooden spoon, tripping over animals. Nights spent laughing at Quinn deepening her voice to sound like Tom Jones, pitching unnaturally high for the Bee Gees and hitting all the wrong keys.

"Wake Me up before You Go-Go." Quinn answered, nodding resolutely. "Wham. That's the most fun."

Rachel was in crisis. How could she pick just one?

Quinn smiled, watched her.

"I think…I can't…"

"What about that Spice Girls one you do all the hand gestures for?" Quinn suggested, scooting closer. "Or that—what were you singing in the bathroom this morning? Franki Valli?"

Rachel nodded distractedly, hummed "Oh, What a Night."

And then she thought of it. The song she pulled out at least once a week, the epic show she put on with her wooden spoon, the voice distortions that would double Quinn over with laughter, the words that even James knew by now.

"Believe, by Cher." Rachel proclaimed surely.

Quinn snorted, broke into melodic laughter at just the memory of Rachel singing it over and over and over. Rachel smiled and rubbed her back until she could contain herself.

"Two more questions, ladies." Brian broke in, glancing at the clock. He smiled at the inside look Rachel and Quinn shared.

"First one—Rachel, do you have plans to return to Broadway any time soon? Any projects for your fans to look forward to?"

Rachel sat up in her chair, folded her hands. "I have no immediate plans, no." She spoke quickly when Brian opened his mouth again. "_But_, Quinn and I have been mulling over a trip to England, maybe six months or so. Maybe it would be just me, or maybe the London Zoo would open their arms for Quinn, but…the West End has always been on my to-do list."

She glanced at Quinn, who smiled softly and quipped, "Just say the word, baby."

"That's definitely exciting." Brian nodded enthusiastically, twirling his pen around his fingers. "This last question is actually mine, but I'm sure everybody's thinking it."

Rachel took Quinn's hand to focus her attention.

"How do you manage your two kids, your boatload of animals, your full time careers, without going crazy?"

Rachel stated, "We don't," right as Quinn sagely said, "Chocolate cupcakes."

They'd lost their marbles long ago, gone around some kind of bend and never returned. Rachel squeezed Quinn's hand.

"Do you have any advice?" Brian tacked on. "For families, kids, maybe individuals with Asperger's?"

"We…" Rachel glanced at her wife, unsure. She couldn't possibly be the right person to be handing out advice. She'd nearly tripped through the sliding glass door taking off her jeans last night.

"We just muddle through it and laugh." Rachel offered. "We dance, we like the little things, like chocolate cupcakes, bed time stories with Jay and Em. Quinn buys me jelly beans every week and I feed her cookies. We're well balanced and we talk and…you just have to love what you're doing, who you're with, you know."

"There are loud morons everywhere." Quinn said bluntly. Rachel narrowed her eyes, but Quinn didn't seem to be jokingly referring to her. "And it took—took me _so long_ to figure out that there's only one loud moron who matters to me."

"Ugh." Rachel shook her head, unsurprised. "Shut it, bear," she said over Brian's laughter.

Quinn tipped toward Rachel, tried to kiss her cheek but caught the palm of her hand instead.

"I'm saying…do what you love and do it for yourself, and I promise you'll come across your own moron out there who will love you for exactly what you are." Quinn said, shrugging.

Rachel sighed exaggeratedly. She pulled Quinn back and held out her cheek for a kiss.

Quinn grinned, delighted. Right against Rachel's ear, she said, "I love you the best, baby."

~ooooooooooo~

Rachel was woken when a warm, heavy weight settled on top of her, and she groaned and squirmed uselessly, pushed against Quinn's smiling face. She kept her eyes tightly shut and willed sleep to find her again.

Quinn rocked lightly, impatiently, and kissed Rachel's nose.

Rachel got a mouthful of her hair, mumbled, "Ew, what is this?" She pushed tiredly at Quinn's shoulders and chest. "What is this thing on me?"

Quinn laughed loudly.

"Oh goodness, it makes noise." Rachel husked, blinking her eyes open.

Quinn tipped forward. "Do you know what day it is, little bear?"

Rachel smirked slightly and shut her eyes again. She threw out a, "Get lost," and attempted to roll over, but could only manage to press half her face into her pillow.

Quinn sat back on her heels, studied Rachel for a moment. "I think you remember."

"It's Sunday."

Rachel's voice was muffled, her smile hidden.

Quinn remained quiet, eyeing Rachel critically. Her lips tipped down in an uncertain pout and she stopped supporting her own weight, draped completely over Rachel. She let out a heavy sigh and rolled her head against Rachel's shoulder.

She was ridiculous. Rachel snorted into her pillow.

After a moment, Rachel reached a hand blindly behind her and tugged on Quinn's hair. "Happy anniversary, baby."

She could feel Quinn's smile on her bare shoulder.

"You've been married to me for eight years." Quinn remarked.

Rachel scrunched up her nose. "Is that it? It feels like so much longer."

Quinn tickled down her side, rolled her back over so that her face wasn't jammed into the pillow. "Kurt picked up James and Em for the day, and I have a present for you."

Rachel grinned widely, staring up at her wife. She tucked her hand into the front of Quinn's sweats and tugged. "Do you?"

"Yes, but it's not-"

A loud crash from the hallway interrupted Quinn, and she froze, rolled off of Rachel, and thundered out of the bedroom mid-sentence. Rachel wasn't alarmed at all. It was probably a pet, most likely Cornelius. She sat up, crossed her legs, and was taming her tangled hair when Quinn walked in.

The first thing out of Rachel's mouth was somewhere between a cry and a laugh.

_Of course_ Quinn would have a puppy in her arms—a golden retriever puppy with a too-big, blue collar trying to climb up her chest and launch himself free of her grasp. Rachel pressed her hands over her mouth and Quinn watched her carefully, settled next to her on the bed.

Cloud, Char, and Cornelius trotted into the room and plopped onto their cushions in the corner.

"I know Barnaby can't be replaced, baby," Quinn said softly, setting the puppy on the blankets. He sniffed around and tripped over every fold. "But he's—he needed a home, and he looks just like Barnes, and I thought you'd…I know you miss him."

Rachel nodded wordlessly, scooped the puppy towards her. He rushed forward eagerly, tongue lolling, and Rachel gave a watery laugh.

"His tag says Tucker, since the character's full name is Barnaby Tucker, but we can—we can change-"

"It's perfect." Rachel murmured. She picked Tucker up and hugged him closely, let him paw at her face.

Quinn smiled fondly. "He chewed through the lamp cord in the hallway and knocked that tiny table over, so watch out for glass when you step outside."

Rachel laughed and wiped at her eyes. Tucker rocketed upwards, connected his head with her jaw. He'd be exactly what she needed, a buddy for James and Emma to grow up with, the start of a new phase in their lives. Rachel wondered about quarantine laws in England.

She would've loved to spend the day with Tucker, but Quinn determinedly took off all her clothes, shut Tucker in the bathroom, and shuffled Rachel out of the apartment after two hours of rolling around in bed and strawberry waffles.

Unsurprisingly, they ended up at the zoo, on their usual bench outside the polar bear enclosure after having come in through the staff entrance. It was a cool day, and Rachel appreciated the sun, the pink flowers behind the bench, the Peppermint Pattie on Quinn's breath.

She hugged Quinn's arm, leaned into her side, and remembered one of their earlier conversations.

"If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?" Rachel wondered, smiling.

Quinn flipped her hand over so that Rachel could play with her fingers—pry them apart, bend them backwards, twirl around the wedding and engagement rings.

"Alaska." She said, watching Rachel.

Rachel scoffed. "That's not what you're supposed to say."

"What am I supposed to say?"

"I know you remember."

"Ask me again." Quinn requested.

Rachel narrowed her eyes, said, "If you could go anywhere in the world, bear, where would you go?"

Quinn hummed thoughtfully, eyes crinkled with amusement. "Maybe Russia, to see an Amur leopard."

Rachel huffed. She shook her head and pinched Quinn's palm. Quinn whined, kissed Rachel's head, snuck one to the corner of her mouth when Rachel was staring determinedly forward. Rachel trapped Quinn's hand between both of her own and met her gaze, eyebrow raised.

"Rachel, it would be where you are." Quinn finally said, chuckling like it was obvious.

Rachel patted down the collar on Quinn's jacket. "Yeah? Still?"

"If I could go anywhere in the world, I would go wherever you are." Quinn nodded. She was silent for a moment, and then added, "But also Russia, another time, probably. It's—the Amur leopard is critically endangered."

Rachel tipped back into Quinn's side. "Okay, honey."

It was about ten minutes later, when Rachel had nearly fallen asleep with her face in Quinn's jacket, that Quinn quietly asked, "Did you get me a present, Rachel?"

Rachel could hear the smile in her voice. She _had_, actually, and she sat up and looked coyly at her wife.

"Why? Would you like it now?"

Quinn nodded sweetly, bounced a bit.

"It's—I've done some preparing for it." Rachel warned, settling her bag on her lap and nervously fiddling with the handles.

Quinn watched curiously. "Take your time, baby."

Rachel took a breath, thought of everything she'd planned on saying. She blanked on literally every word for about a minute, and then shook her head and smiled at her wife.

"Quinn, I love you."

Quinn opened her mouth, but Rachel took her hand and kept speaking.

"I love you…when you're sick and grumpy; I love you when I'm asleep and when I'm away and when you're being an idiot; I love you in great big bursts and tiny little moments that just knock the sense out of me and I don't know why."

"Rachel, are you proposing?" Quinn smiled widely, affectionately.

She bounced her knees and scooted forward in her seat, and Rachel shook her head, so happy and exasperated. "Hold still."

"Because I don't—I don't know if you remember, but we got married about-"

"I wanted to thank you and tell you how much I love you and make a moment out of this." Rachel said loudly, giving Quinn a look that clearly said, "Shut your face."

Quinn sat back and watched her adoringly.

Rachel squeezed her leg and resumed with, "_Thank you_ for picking my apartment twelve years ago, bear. And thank you for loving our babies as much as you love me, and for promising me forever."

Quinn sat quietly, eyes on Rachel's face while Rachel rummaged around in her bag.

"The traditional eight-year anniversary gift is pottery or linens," Rachel said distractedly. She glanced at her wife, smiled when Quinn scrunched up her nose.

"But I thought you'd appreciate this more than a vase or some sheets."

The sentiment, at least. It really wasn't an exceptional present on its own. Rachel pulled two Tupperware containers of chocolate pudding out of her bag and caught only a glimpse of Quinn's delight before she was bundled up in her wife's arms.

She laughed against Quinn's neck, pried herself away. "Until we're old like elephants and roll around in the mud and eat nothing but chocolate pudding, right bear?"

Quinn tilted forward and kissed Rachel sloppily, grinning through it.

They weren't quite that old yet, but their babies were talking and walking, their pets aging—Tucker had probably wrecked the couch by now—and things were changing, and it was Rachel's favorite part of Quinn's vows.

"I love chocolate pudding." Quinn mumbled when she pulled back. She eagerly watched Rachel pry the lids off of the containers. "This is—this is better than a proposal."

Rachel snorted, handed Quinn one of the containers and watched her wife dig in instantaneously.

"You trapped me eight years ago, baby."

Quinn shook her head and puffed out her cheeks, hurried to swallow. Rachel tugged on her ear, smiling expectantly. "No?"

"Twelve. I had you from that note." Quinn shrugged, smiled at her until Rachel's ears went red. "You're just lovely."

And then she laughed and pulled Rachel against her side, and Rachel situated herself so that she wouldn't get pudding in her hair. It always seemed to happen anyway—pudding, milk, icing, peanut butter, all of Quinn's food.

She sighed contentedly and played with Quinn's fingers, watched the bears sleep. It was still the only thing they ever seemed to do.

~oooooooooooooo~

"_B__ut, of course, it isn't really goodbye, because the forest will always be there... and anybody who is friendly with bears can find it." _

― A.A. Milne, _The House at Pooh Corner_


End file.
